A Twist in the Telling
by Aedemiel
Summary: An alternate history of the Winchester Family. John works hard to provide for his family and loves his wife dearly, but when he meets a compelling stranger, he's drawn into an affair he can't explain. Mary struggles to hold things together despite the challenges. Neither of them have any idea of how Heaven and Hell are manipulating their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is a bit experimental and I'm not sure where it's going. Warnings for some old-fashioned and unreconstructed attitudes as I'm trying to evoke the time in which this fic is set and not my own views. Trigger warnings for serious consent issues throughout this fic.**

John Winchester tugged hard on the wrench and sighed. He'd been under Mrs Jacobs' ancient Oldsmobile for more than an hour and every nut he'd tried to undo had been rusted into immobility. Had the old woman had her car serviced since her husband died five years ago? He gave the nut another experimental pull, but it was like it was welded on. He was never going to get the work done on time.

"John," Artie Hollins said, his boots appearing beside the car. "Are you still working on this heap of junk?"

"Yeah," John said. "The damn thing's so rusted up I can't get any of the nuts loosened."

"Wendy kinda went to pieces when Carter died. I guess car maintenance wasn't high on her list of priorities. Look, don't spend all night on it. If you aren't getting anywhere in the next half-hour, go home to your lovely wife and we'll take another look at it tomorrow."

"OK," John said. He was lucky to have such a great boss. "Thanks, Artie."

"No problem, kid," Artie said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

John returned his attention to his work. He moved the wrench and suddenly the bolt sheared off, and he swore as thick, black oil began to drip onto the floor. He reached out for the metal container he used for collecting old oil but it was just out of reach. He began to scoot down towards it and it suddenly slid across the floor and into his hand. He grabbed it gratefully and positioned it under the leak.

"Thanks, Artie. I thought you'd left."

He turned his head to see a pair of expensive-looking Italian leather loafers and frowned. Artie didn't wear shoes like that. In fact, John hadn't seen anyone in Lawrence wearing something so fancy. Puzzled, he rolled out from under the car and peered upwards into the eyes of a young man with startling blue eyes.

"Uh, can I help you?" he asked. "We're closed."

"My name is Michael," the man said. His hair fell in blond curls around his head, far longer than was fashionable. He looked to be nineteen or so and everything about him screamed money. John wagered that his clothes and shoes were probably handmade and likely cost more than his car. He offered a well-manicured hand to John. Aware of how he was covered in oil and grime, he clambered to his feet, dropped his tools on the workbench and wiped his hands on a rag before grasping Michael's hand and shaking it.

"Nice to meet you," he said politely. "But if you're having car trouble, you're gonna have to come back tomorrow."

"I don't have a vehicle," Michael said, looking around the garage curiously.

"Uh," John said. Why was this man here? What did he want? And then he noticed the dog-tags Michael held in his right hand. "Were you in the military?"

Michael looked down at the tags with a slight smile. "No, these were someone else's." He tucked them into his pocket and gazed at John, seeming to drink in every detail he could see. It was more than a little unnerving. "I came to talk to you, John."

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" John said in confusion.

"We have met," Michael said. "But it was a few years ago and I look quite different now."

Since the man looked barely out of high school, it was entirely plausible that he'd been a junior when John graduated. "OK. What can I do for you?"

"Some things have a season," Michael said. It sounded to John like a line from a poem, but why would this kid be quoting poetry at him? He didn't want to be rude, but he'd had a frustrating day and he really wanted to go home. "Some men have a destiny."

"Just men?" John said, amused. "My wife might have something to say about that." Michael looked irritated, the first real emotion he'd shown and John felt a strange heady sensation for a moment. He'd obviously been under that car too long.

"You have a destiny," Michael continued. "Tonight is the first part of it. A child must be conceived tonight, a very important child."

John's skin prickled. This guy was a kook. "Look, buddy, I don't know anything about destiny or fate or anything like that. It's late, I'm tired and I have to lock up now. Maybe you could come back tomorrow?"

"No," Michael said, his eyes intent on John's. They really were very blue, he thought vaguely. They seemed almost to glow in the dim light of the garage. "It has to be tonight."

"That's really not my problem," John said, his civility beginning to slip. Michael grasped his right arm and jerked him forward. John was no weenie, but the blond was deceptively strong given how slight his frame was. "Hey, what's the big idea?"

Michael pulled him closer still, pressing their bodies together and then, to John's total shock, slanted his mouth over John's and kissed him. John went rigid for a second before shoving hard at the stranger's shoulders. He might as well have tried to push over a mountain for all the good it did him. He tried to turn his head away, but Michael's other arm slid up and cupped his head with an iron grip and his tongue pressed insistently at the seam of John's mouth.

John had met homosexuals before of course, especially in the Marines where the close quarters made it hard for anyone to keep secrets about their preferences. John was a live and let live kinda guy and had gently but firmly rebuffed any advances, and nobody had ever tried force the issue. So he was astonished and appalled to realize that despite the fact he'd never felt any inclination towards another man before, and this total stranger had taken it upon himself to assault John against his will, he found his body was beginning to react.

 _This is madness! I'm a happily married man!_ But in his surprise he'd relaxed slightly and his mouth fell open. Michael took full advantage, sweeping his tongue inside John's mouth and drawing a throaty groan from him. Arousal, hot and swift and needy, seemed flare almost from nowhere and before long he had stopped fighting altogether and was instead submitting to the onslaught.

His clothing seemed to practically melt from his body, and within moments Michael had stripped them both naked. Michael's body was like that of one of those Greek statues, perfectly proportioned and muscular. But unlike those statues, Michael was fully erect and John felt his panic beginning to return.

"Wait," he said breathlessly. "We can't-"

"We can. Indeed, we must," Michael said sternly. He pushed John backwards until his legs hit the fender of the Oldsmobile and then he was kissing John again and his brain checked out once more. He was only faintly aware of Michael's hands sliding over his buttocks as the blond easily lifted him upwards onto the hood of the car, spreading his legs wide and licking a wicked line from his navel to his neck. He shivered in response. Michael feathered kisses down his chest and back to his stomach, and he bucked as the blond's mouth moved south until he'd taken John into his mouth.

There was little that could shock a military man, but being sucked off by a man within minutes of meeting him definitely qualified. Oral sex was taboo, and had even been illegal until fairly recently, but John knew that many married couples indulged behind closed doors. Between two men however it remained a felony but for some reason that didn't seem important anymore. The only thing that occupied John's mind was the way Michael was relentlessly driving his body towards release. When Michael stopped and lifted his head to meet John's eyes, he let out an involuntary moan.

"Please," he begged, not even really sure what he was asking for.

"I will take care of you, don't worry," Michael assured him. "But we have to do this my way."

John whimpered. It wasn't a sound he thought he could even make. But as Michael parted his legs wider and began to probe at the entrance to his body with one cool finger, John arched off the hood with a yelp. Michael placed a hand over his mouth.

"Shh," he admonished. "Do you want someone to call the police?"

John's eyes widened in terror. If he were caught like this, his life would be destroyed. He nodded his understanding and Michael removed his hand. Between his legs, that single finger was slowly driving John insane. He'd never felt anything like this gasping, desperate need, his insides coiling tightly as Michael worked to open his body up.

"Oh God," he hissed.

Michael had added another finger and John felt his eyes cross. He couldn't hold on much longer and he whimpered again, trying to communicate his desire. Michael met his eyes and smiled.

"Soon," he promised, still working John's body into a higher state of arousal. And then suddenly, his fingers were gone and Michael was crawling up and over his body, his eyes fierce and possessive. John felt something pressing at his entrance, his body burning as it resisted the intrusion. He grimaced, pain and arousal warring for attention and Michael kissed him again, a soft, open-mouthed kiss that made him unconsciously relax. He gasped at the unfamiliar feeling of fullness as Michael surged into him, pleasure flowing over him in a wave.

Michael was murmuring something to him in a language John didn't recognize. He didn't care, as long as the blond kept thrusting in and out of his body. Any thoughts of the crime they were committing, the fact he was cheating on Mary and with a man no less, none of this could compete with the feeling of utter completion as Michael moved within him. He never wanted this to end. But Michael's pace was beginning to become uneven and with a start John realized that he was approaching climax. The idea of Michael spilling his seed inside him should have been repellent, instead John wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. His toes curled as his own release beckoned.

"Do you want me?" Michael said between clenched teeth. "Do you want me inside you?"

John writhed beneath him, thoroughly wanton and abandoned as he nodded.

"Say it," Michael demanded.

"I want you," John huffed desperately. "I want you inside me."

"Say yes, Michael, I accept."

Had his brain been even capable of rational thought, that might have struck John as an odd thing to say. But he was spinning out of control, his only desire being held tantalizingly out of reach and he was willing to do or say anything.

"Yes, Michael," he panted. "I accept!" His whole body tightened like a bow-string and he bit down into Michael's neck to stop himself from screaming out. Every nerve seemed to burn with pleasure until finally he was submerged and everything blacked out.

Mary Winchester hummed to herself as she checked the meatloaf and turned the oven down. If John didn't come home soon, it would start to dry out. She frowned and considered whether she should call the garage and ask how long he was going to be. But she didn't want to be a nagging wife and John wasn't like her neighbor Ted, who Mary was sure was a cheat and a liar. He'd made his appreciation of Mary's charms obvious from day one, patting her rear and one time 'accidentally' brushing past her breasts, in full view of his wife, Betty. The man was a pig.

But she trusted John. If he was late, she knew it was because he was finishing up some work. It was just strange for him not to call. She sighed, trying not to get mad. The overtime would come in handy, and they were hoping that it wouldn't be long before she was expecting their first child. She wanted that baby so badly, the next building blocks in the nice, normal family she was trying to construct. No more hunting or monsters or any craziness. She was done with the supernatural world. Dad hadn't really approved of her marrying someone who wasn't a hunter, even though he liked John and thought he would make a steady provider. She'd rolled her eyes at that. It wasn't the 1950's anymore, she'd told him. But her dad was dead, and so was her mom and she was tired of losing people she loved. So she'd walked away while she still could.

The front door opened with a bang and she jumped up in surprise. It was still early enough in the spring that the evenings were quite cold, but the icy gust that whistled through the house was more like a frigid January. John stood in the doorway, his body seeming to glow in porchlight. She shook her head at the curious optical illusion. This was _John._ Safe, dependable, not-at-all supernatural John, the man she loved to distraction.

He gave her a slow, warm smile and a little thrill went through her. She knew that look and liked what it promised. But first things first.

"Artie kept you late tonight," she said and then bit her lip because it sounded like a criticism.

"Old Mrs Jacobs brought her car in because it was making a strange sound," John said, peeling off his jacket and hanging it up. "Damn thing was rusted up like you would not believe."

"Did you get it fixed?" she asked as she moved over to the oven and pulled the meatloaf out.

"No," John said. His nostrils flared at the delicious smell of the food. "I'll have to take another look at it tomorrow."

"I'm sure you'll get it done," Mary said. Her John could fix anything, she was convinced. "Do you want a beer?"

"Do I?" John laughed. "Let me go get cleaned up first."

"Sure," she said. "But be quick, I'm serving up."

John grinned at her and dashed up the stairs taking them two at a time. He was in such a good mood tonight, despite his report of a frustrating day. Mary wasn't going to question it. She frowned when she heard the shower start running. Surely washing his hands and face would be enough for dinner?

She started arranging plates and utensils, removed the mashed potatoes and vegetables from the warming drawer and placed everything on the table. She poured John's beer into a tall glass and after a moment's consideration, opened one for herself as well.

John's footsteps sounded just as she finished laying the table. His face was pink from the heat of the shower and his hair was wet. He grabbed the beer from the table and drank thirstily. She watched the movement of his throat and quivered. Tonight was going to be all about the two of them, she could feel it.

After dinner, they had snuggled up on the couch and talked about Artie's retirement plans. The old man had been hinting for months now that he was thinking of retiring and wanted John and his co-worker Mike to take over the business. But that meant coming up with enough money to buy him out and they had so little spare money each month, that it just seemed out of reach.

"I could go back to work," Mary said. She'd left her last job at the local elementary school after the principal had made it clear he felt married women were a liability. It wasn't legal for him to come right out and fire her, but he'd made her life so unpleasant it had been easier just to quit. "I mean, at least until I get pregnant."

"If you want," John said. "But what if you took a job and then had to leave straight away? It doesn't seem very fair."

"Tell you what," she said. "If it doesn't happen for us this month, then I'll start looking for a job."

"That sounds like a challenge," John laughed, nuzzling into her neck. She shrieked in delight as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin.

"Maybe it is," she said coyly. John's eyes darkened and he kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers and he groaned.

"Why don't we call it a night," he muttered against her temple. She nodded and he stood up, holding out his hand to her. They climbed the stairs to their bedroom, stealing kisses and gentle touches as they went and tumbled inside, giggling. Mary wiggled out of the jeans and t-shirt and John was flinging off his clothes left and right. He cupped her breast through the material of her bra and mouthed at it, leaving a wet patch that cooled and made her shiver. He unclasped the bra with a practiced hand and slid it over her arms before tossing it over her shoulder. She laughed again and then yelped when he slid two fingers under the edge of her panties and began slipping them over her hips.

"Somebody's eager tonight," she said happily.

"I can't help it," John said, his eyes glowing with love and desire. "I'm married to this insanely hot girl and she's all I can think about."

"Mmhmm," she said, arching one brow. "Well _I_ married this handsome Marine, and he likes to drive me wild in bed."

John growled against her stomach and then lifted her off her feet, dropping her onto the mattress and covering her body with his own.

"Hey," she objected jokingly. "You're still wearing your socks!"

"My feet get cold," he said, kissing her again. "It's chilly out there tonight."

"I'll do my best to warm you up," she said, her eyes twinkling. He rolled them over so that she was straddling his hips and she grinned. "Ooh, I'm gonna be a cowgirl tonight!"

John laughed. "Do I look like a cow to you?"

"I don't know," she said, one finger on her chin in mock contemplation. "Maybe more like a horse?"

"What!" John exclaimed. "Come over here and say that!"

Mary lunged forward and captured his mouth, twitching and shivering as his hands shaped her body and gently coaxed her arousal higher and higher until she broke away and shifted her position so she was rocking against his erection and moaning as sparks of sensation passed through her.

"Oh, Mary," he gasped, his breathing becoming ragged. "Love you."

She lifted herself and adjusted her position, pressing him against her entrance and then slowly lowering herself onto him. John panted at the agonizingly slow slide of her body and the hot tight grip around his cock that was almost too much, too sensitive. And then Mary slammed the rest of her body down and he arched beneath her.

"Oh God," he cried out.

She started to move, slowly at first, her hands on his chest and her hanging down like a curtain. Her hips flexed and she rode him, a deliberate, steady pace that caused her arousal to build. She loved him so much, and this moment was perfection as they moved together in harmony, the soft sounds of pleasure filling the room. John suckled on her breasts as he thrust upwards into her body, and her head fell back as she felt her climax approach.

"John," she whispered like a prayer. "John!"

He bucked beneath her as her body squeezed at him, tumbling over the edge and she felt the heat as he spilled inside her. She collapsed on top of him, too tired and sated to move. He kissed her lazily a few times and she smiled as she drifted off to sleep.

Michael lay there, the warmth of this lovely young human woman surrounding him. He'd gently nudged her into sleep in the immediate aftermath of their lovemaking and now he carefully monitored her body as John's seed, infused with Michael's Grace, began its relentless search for an egg to fertilize. Mary had been at peak of her fertility cycle and Michael had high hopes that their coupling would be successful. Satisfied in more ways than one, he exited John's body and returned to Heaven.


	2. Chapter 2

_Two Years Later_

It had taken considerable negotiation in order to be able to visit Hell. Of course, Michael was an archangel and he could have just shown up and blasted his way through. But he was trying to build some goodwill here, and to do that he needed to engage in a little diplomacy.

Benedict, the snake-hipped young demon who'd been sent to escort him through the circles of Hell to the Cage where his brother Lucifer had been imprisoned for millennia had taken one look at the blond curls and blue eyes of his vessel and practically spread his legs there and then. Michael had distastefully declined, he wasn't so desperate for sex that he'd stoop to a demon and besides, if everything went well this evening, he'd be well-rewarded in that department.

As they descended deeper into the Pit, Benedict had chattered constantly about recent events in the human world. Michael never paid much attention to mortal concerns except in the narrow cases where they affected him, and so he didn't really know what to say when the demon excitedly asked him about his thoughts on the upcoming US presidential election or the hurricane in Texas.

"Shouldn't you be afraid of me," Michael asked when he began to tire of the constant sound of Benedict's voice. "I could smite you with one finger."

"Well, you could," Benedict agreed. "But then you'd be stuck in Hell without an escort which means you'd have to fight your way out. You're probably powerful enough to do so but it would take a long time and you're on a tight schedule. The baby, the one destined to be the boy king, must be conceived soon. It will take you much too long to escape."

Michael laughed at the audacity of the cheeky imp. "I guess you're right," he said. "Is it much further?"

Benedict canted an eyebrow at him. "Hard to say. Hell doesn't exactly occupy linear dimensional space you know." Michael didn't bother to respond.

But it seemed they were close to the end of their journey. The numbers of demons that thronged the hallways and staircases had dwindled and the temperature had dropped significantly. Michael breathed to see it mist in the air.

"Almost there," Benedict said when they arrived in front of a massive obsidian door, ornately carved with Enochian sigils. There was a large silver door handle in the middle of the door. "I can't go any further."

"I thought you were instructed to escort me the whole way?" Michael said angrily.

Benedict shook his head. "Nobody is allowed in the chamber. You've got special dispensation. Lord Lucifer would turn me into ashes."

"Very well," Michael said, his body vibrating with discontent. He grasped the icy door handle and pulled, the hinges screaming like a thousand damned souls as it slowly opened. He stepped inside the outer chamber and gasped as the Cage loomed into view. Suspended from some invisible point hidden by swirling fog above, the black, spiky bars of the cage seemed to be constructed entirely from despair. It hurt just to look at it, what it must be like to be contained within it Michael could scarcely imagine.

"Michael," a familiar voice said warmly. Red eyes glowed in the depths of the gloom inside the Cage.

"Lucifer," he responded, a smile tugging at his lips. "It's been too long, brother."

"Is it really the End Times already?" Lucifer asked, his voice cracking slightly. Michael frowned. "Time is so difficult to measure down here."

Michael looked around the chamber until his eyes lighted on the object he was searching for. He walked over to the winch and began to wind it slowly, watching the Cage descend until it hit the floor with a clang so loud it threatened his sanity. He took a few more breaths, a human trait that he noted was beginning to become a habit. Once he'd gotten himself under control once more, he stalked towards the Cage, oozing purpose with every step.

Lucifer appeared out of the shadows, and Michael peered at him. The form he'd chosen resembled a vessel he occupied centuries ago, before the Fall. A tall, slender man with hair like a raven's wing that tumbled down his back and bright green eyes that took in everything they saw. His perfect ivory skin took on a dusting of pink across his cheeks as he met Michael's eyes.

"I've missed you," he said huskily.

"I know," Michael said, coming as close to the bars of the Cage as he could without touching them. Lucifer grasped the bars, his Grace sizzling in response to the spells that layered the filthy thing to prevent his escape.

"Please…"

Michael couldn't deny him. He slid his hands through and cupped Lucifer's face, crushing their mouths together in a desperate kiss that was laced with passion and sorrow. His own Grace sparked and crackled against the Cage's magic. He didn't care, all that mattered was the feel of Lucifer's mouth on his, the taste of him on his tongue. His brother whined with need and he moved his hands down hot, naked flesh. He shuddered and made a decision, dismissing his clothing with a gesture and pressing himself against the bars, thrilling at the feel of Lucifer's Grace against his own wherever they could make contact.

Arousal quickly expanded within him, and he could feel the answering sensation from Lucifer. He needed him, now and all thoughts of his mission fled. Even with the ghastly Cage separating them, he was determined to get what he wanted from his brother. They moved together, gasps of love and desire tumbling from Michael's lips. Lucifer didn't speak, he just wordlessly grunted and growled. Michael didn't mind, he knew where Lucifer's heart lay. The delicious friction of their Graces rubbing together, entwining and almost merging in places had been missing from his life for so long, he didn't think he would have much stamina. A shame, since he'd have another long wait before they'd be together again. But Michael was patient, and understood the value of delayed gratification. If it meant he could get Lucifer out of this Cage, he could wait a few years for the chess pieces to be in place.

Lucifer roared as pleasure swept through him and Michael followed him. His wings snapped out and he could sense Lucifer's had done the same but while his were outstretched in all their glory, Lucifer's were pitifully contained by the Cage. Even as he floated on the post-coital high of their mating, his anger began to build at the way his brother had been treated by their father.

"So what do I really owe the pleasure?" Lucifer said, his voice trembling as aftershocks of his climax continued to rock him. "The Apocalypse is not yet at hand, is it?"

"It will be, if the vessels are born as foretold," Michael told him. Lucifer arched a brow at him. "We've been carefully molding the bloodlines for generations. Dean Winchester, my vessel, was born last year. We'll soon need Mary to conceive your vessel."

Lucifer looked puzzled. "I don't see where I come in."

"Let's just say that to keep things running smoothly, I rode alongside for the conception."

Lucifer peered at him through narrowed eyes. "You were possessing John when he had sex with Mary?"

"Yes," Michael said. "I needed to ensure there were no… mishaps."

"Kinky," Lucifer said, grinning. Michael rolled his eyes. "Trying to play some kind of advantage are you? Juicing your vessel right at the moment of conception?"

"No," Michael said, touching Lucifer's face fondly. "I've got a plan. A plan that means we can be together again."

Lucifer kissed him, his eyes wide. "Truly?"

"I swear. It won't be easy, I'm afraid. And it starts with you to doing the same thing," Michael explained. "I've found a way to get you out of the Cage for a short while. Possess John and conceive a child."

Lucifer's skin rippled with disgust. "Possess John? Ugh. I don't think his bloodline will accept that."

"Mary then. She _is_ your bloodline."

Lucifer shook his head. "No can do. She'd miscarry as soon as I withdrew my Grace and I've no desire to hang around for the whole nine months."

"No," Michael said, agreeing with him. "The spell I've created will allow you only 24 hours out of the Cage and on earth. That's not going to work."

"Does John have to be the father?" Lucifer said suddenly.

Michael considered the question. "Not really. Campbell is the important bloodline here, not Winchester."

"Perhaps I can tempt Mary into a dalliance," Lucifer suggested. Michael gave him a skeptical look.

"She's quite devoted to John," he said, shaking his head.

"John's no longer important to this picture," Lucifer insisted. "Drive a wedge between them if you have to. I can do the rest."

* * *

"Baw!" Dean declared as he threw the ball across the room with surprising force for a small child.

"That's right!" Mary said, clapping in delight. "That's a ball."

"Dada baw!" Dean decided.

Mary laughed. "Are you saying it's Daddy's ball or that Daddy is a ball?"

"Dada baw," Dean repeated, nodding to himself.

"You're a funny little guy," she said fondly, dropping a kiss on top of his head. "Daddy will be home soon."

Dean looked up at her, his blue eyes wide. "Dada 'ome?"

"Yes," she said, her happiness draining away. John had been late every night this week, and he'd been surly and unresponsive to even the most innocuous inquiries about how his day had been. And for the last two nights, she was certain she smelled booze although he denied doing anything but coming straight home. Her lips pursed, if he kept liquor at work he could technically be telling the truth. It wasn't a pleasant thought. She couldn't understand it. Yes, the new addition to their family had been a more difficult transition than she'd hoped but Dean was such a _good_ baby.

At the mother and baby group at her local library, she'd heard all sorts of stories of babies who wouldn't sleep more than an hour or two at a time, or who were fussy or had problems tolerating milk. She'd had a relatively easy pregnancy and Dean was a happy, easy-to-please child. So why did it feel like John was drifting away from her?

There was a knock at the door and she got to her feet, wondering who could be calling on her so late in the afternoon. She opened the door to see Gina, one of the other mothers from her support group. She had her baby, Thomas, on her hip.

"Gina? Is everything OK?"

Gina bit her lip and looked around nervously. "Can I come in?"

Mary stepped back and welcomed her friend into the house. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, that would be great." Gina placed Thomas on the floor next to Dean and sat heavily on the couch. Mary went into the kitchen and hurried through the motions of making coffee, keeping one ear on the sounds from the living room.

"Hey, Deano," Gina was saying. "How are you, little man?"

"Dada baw!" Dean told her.

"He's something all right," Gina said darkly. Mary frowned to herself and finished her task, carrying two mugs of steaming coffee into the living room along with a packet of chocolate chip cookies.

"So," Mary said brightly. "What's up?"

Gina's mouth twisted. "I don't know how to tell you this, Mary. Jerry thinks I should keep my nose out, but I figure if I don't tell you, then I'm part of it. Like an accessory to a crime."

A crime? Mary gaped at her in trepidation. "What are you talking about?"

"John," Gina said, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Mary. But I think he's cheating on you."

"No," Mary denied, her hand flying to her throat. "John wouldn't do that to me."

"Don't shoot the messenger," Gina said. "But we saw him, Jerry and me. Two nights ago, we were having dinner at that diner on Massachussetts. He was coming out of the bar across the street with some guy. Tall, curly blond hair, bluest eyes you ever saw."

"So," Mary said in confusion. "Maybe's he's one of John's friends from the Marines."

"No way, honey," Gina said. "Kid looked barely out of high school."

"OK, well, maybe Artie's taking on an apprentice," Mary asserted. "I thought you said he was having an affair."

Gina just stared steadily at her for a moment. "You know, I hear that when men are together for long periods without any women around, like in prison or the military, nature takes it's course, y'know."

"No, I don't know," Mary said angrily. "Are you suggesting my husband is-" She broke off, too stunned to put Gina's inference into words.

"I know what I saw," Gina said sagely.

"What _did_ you see?" Mary hissed. "So far, all you've accused John of is being in a bar with a friend!"

Gina laughed although there wasn't much humor in it. "We saw them _kissing_."

Mary stood up, her temper flaring. "In the middle of the street? Don't be ridiculous. This isn't San Francisco. They'd be arrested on the spot!"

"No, of course not in the street. This was later, when we were heading back to our car. They were down that alley that runs behind the diner between 7th and 8th. Hot and heavy, up against a wall. There's no mistaking what we saw. Even Jerry admits that."

Mary felt dizzy. "Maybe you made a mistake. Maybe it was just a guy who looks like John," she said miserably.

"Honey, I've known John longer than you have, remember," Gina said. "And I swear to you, it was him."

"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do," Mary said, biting the inside of her cheek. "But I've got a eleven-month old baby and no means of supporting myself. I've got to have more to go on than a quick glance down a darkened alley!"

Gina nodded. "I'll let you know if I hear anything else," she said. "I'm sorry, Mary. I truly am." She picked up Thomas and headed for the door. "We have room if you need a place to crash."

Mary nodded mutely and Gina left.

"Dada baw!" Dean said.

"I know, baby," she said. "I know."

* * *

John stared at Mike in consternation. "What do you mean, canceling the contract?"

"I don't know how to be any clearer," Mike said tiredly. "Jerry Merchant's taking his business elsewhere."

"Dammit Mike, he's one of our best clients," John exclaimed. "We kept those trucks of his in perfect working order."

"Maybe Darryl offered him a better deal," Mike said, spreading his hands. "What did you want me to do?"

John narrowed his eyes at his partner. "Didn't you even ask how much Darryl was charging him? Maybe we could have price-matched or something."

Mike's shoulders slumped. "No." He looked away from John and wouldn't meet his eyes.

"So it's not about price then. What is it, Mike? Spit it out!"

He sighed. "Jerry's an ass, OK? I don't believe any of the rumors he's been spreading-"

John made a slashing gesture with his hand. "Mike, will you _please_ give me a straight answer. What rumors?"

Mike raised his eyebrows at him. "I'm surprised you haven't heard. Story is you've been seen hanging out with some young guy."

John's eyebrows dived together. "Who?"

"No idea, nobody ever mentioned a name. Just that he had long blond hair and was quite young." Mike squirmed. "Jerry and Gina claim they saw the two of you making out behind the Ladybird Diner." The screwdriver in John's hand clattered to the floor. His head was spinning. None of this made any sense.

"That's not possible," he blurted out.

Mike's face shut down. "So you do know who this guy is."

"His name is Michael. I met him a couple years ago, before you and me bought Artie out of this place," John said. "He showed up here, spouted a bunch of poetry at me and then left."

"That's it?" Mike said "Did you ever see him again?"

"No," John lied. "I'd completely forgotten about him until just now."

In fact, he had been seeing Michael on and off for months. It had started just a few weeks after Dean was born. He'd been picking up diapers and baby powder at the drugstore a few blocks away from work and Michael had been there, waiting by the car. They hadn't spoken. There didn't seem the need. John had driven them to a park on the outskirts of town and hidden from prying eyes in among the trees, they had fucked. And before he knew what was happening, it had become a regular thing. He wasn't proud of it. But he hadn't been able to resist. Mary's sex drive had been at a low ebb and John didn't blame her for that, but he had needs and sex with Michael had seemed like a harmless way to scratch an itch.

Mike huffed out a breath. "OK," he said. "Maybe he made a mistake. It was dark and Jerry's always had a screw loose. It's fine, we'll figure something out. Maybe I can talk to the Park Service at Clinton State Park again, try and convince them to get their trucks serviced with us instead of taking them up to Topeka."

John nodded, trying to suppress the panic that clawed at his throat. There was no way anyone had seen them at the park, and he'd never be so reckless as to engage in those activities in the middle of town. So what the Hell had Jerry seen?

* * *

The phone rang, the jangling sound startling Dean just as he was drifting off and Mary cursed. "Dammit, this better be good," she snarled, lifting her wailing son back onto her hip and then picking up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Mary?" an unfamiliar voice said. "Mary Campbell?"

"It's Winchester now," she snapped. "But yeah, this is she."

"My name's Franklin Campbell. My dad was Kelly Campbell, your dad's brother." The man on the end of the phone sounded breathless, as if he'd been running. She bounced Dean up and down, hoping that he'd stopped crying.

"OK," Mary said carefully. "My dad's been dead a long time. What do you want?"

"Don't trust me, huh? Fair enough. But I've got news for you. That werewolf, the one that killed my dad, and three of our cousins, he's been spotted."

"Ellery Neville?" Mary gasped.

"That's him," Franklin said. "He's holed up in Emerson, Manitoba."

"That's in Canada," Mary objected. Dean had grabbed the cord of the phone and was pulling on it. She gently untangled his fingers and put him back in his crib.

"Yeah?" Franklin said slowly, as if struggling to understand why she'd pointed that out. "Look, I know you got out. Had a kid, white picket fence, whole nine yards. Good for you. But Ellery Neville is a vicious son of a bitch and somebody's gotta take him out."

"Why are you calling me?" Mary asked suspiciously. "You're a Campbell too, you must have grown up in the life."

"Oh I did," Franklin laughed. "I'd love to take this sucker on. But I can't. Wendigo hamstrung me three weeks ago and I'm in a cast from toe to crotch. I talked to all the hunters I know, and maybe you haven't heard but things have been really busy recently. Everyone's swamped. I wouldn't ask if I had anyone else I could trust."

"All right," Mary sighed. "I'll figure something out."

She hung up and dialed Gina's number. "Hey Gina, it's Mary. Can you watch Dean for me for a few days?"

* * *

Mary dashed through the forest, her heart pounding. Where the Hell had that kid gone? He'd been helpful if a little reticent and she didn't want his blood on her hands. She heard a snapping twigs and a snarling sound and turned unerringly in that direction, but she didn't slow down.

The kid was pinned to a tree by Neville. He scratched at the kid's face with a claw and was poised to rip out his heart when Mary fired. The wolf howled in pain and collapsed. Mary ran over to the body and inspected it carefully. It wouldn't be the first time a werewolf had played dead on her. But she didn't need to worry, there was no way he was faking it this time. She looked up at the boy, his face spattered with blood and his skin pale. His eyes were wide and slightly unfocused.

"Hey, you OK?" she asked. He didn't answer, but that wasn't a surprise. She grabbed his hand and tugged him through the woods back to her car. She needed to get this blood off him, maybe that would lessen the trauma a little. She found a clean rag in the trunk and wet it with some water from her bottle, wiping it over his face. He winced as she cleaned the scratches but they weren't too deep, thankfully.

"OK," she said. "I think we're good. Come on, I'll take you home." The boy nodded and she opened the passenger side door. He gazed at her for a moment before he climbing in.

"You're gonna have to tell me where you live," she said when they reached the highway. He remained silent, just pointing to the right. Mary sighed, and turned.

The rest of the drive proceeded in the same way. The kid would indicate the turns but wouldn't speak at all. Finally, they pulled up outside a house and Mary turned off the engine.

"So, this is your house?" she said.

He nodded, still holding the rag to his face.

Mary sighed. "Look, you did a great job of pointing directions, but words are helpful. And names. Like me? I'm Mary. Winchester."

"Asa. Fox," the boy said quietly.

"That's a great name," Mary said gamely. At least he was talking. "You're gonna be fine. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you are."

"What was that thing?" Asa asked nervously.

"A werewolf," Mary explained. "One I've been tracking for a long time. We had history. Come on." She got out of the car and headed up to the house.

"Werewolf? You kill werewolves?" Asa said, running to keep up with her.

"I hunted a lot of bad things," Mary told him

"Hunted. Like past tense?" Mary blinked. Smart kid.

"I'm retiring. Well, officially I'm already retired. I'm just tying up a few loose ends."

Asa stared up at her, his eyes wide in his too white face. "But if you retire, who's gonna save people like me?"

Mary twitched. "Uh, your mom in there?" she asked.

Asa nodded, looking away from Mary.

"Good." Mary said briskly. "Hey, let me just-" She reached out to tidy up Asa's hair a little. "That's better. Good enough. Well, go on."

She watched him approach the house and as he turned back, she waved to him with a broad smile. Then she opened the car door, climbed in and drove away. She didn't hear the whirr of Asa's Polaroid camera as he snapped her picture.

* * *

She hadn't expected John to be at home when she got back. His face was hard and he didn't do anything to help her as she tried to juggle a wriggling Dean, a diaper bag and her overnight bag.

"Where in God's name have you been?" John barked. Dean took one look at his father's furious face and burst into tears.

"For God's sake, John," she snarled back. She dumped the case and hoisted the diaper bag higher onto her shoulder, turned and climbed the stairs while simultaneously trying to soothe her wailing child.

When she got back downstairs, John was slumped in a chair, a bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. Her lips pursing, she went into the kitchen and found a glass before returning to the living room and held it out to him.

"I'm fine with the bottle," he sulked.

"It's for me," she snapped. He blinked and then opened the bottle, pouring a generous measure into her glass. She took a large mouthful and swallowed before sitting down on the couch. "I was in Canada with my cousin, like I told you."

"Your cousin," John repeated. "Who I never heard of before you went dashing off to his bedside."

"His dad and my dad were brothers. But Uncle Kelly moved to Canada when I was a little girl. We used to spend summers up there." She kept her eyes fixed on her glass. "Franklin snapped his Achilles tendon playing racquetball and I offered to go up there for a few days to give my Aunt Elisabeth a break."

"Leaving our infant son with fucking Gina and Jerry!" John yelled. Mary winced but thankfully Dean did not wake up.

"John, you hadn't been home before 11pm all week. And you stink like a distillery every night. How could I leave my son with you when you're always drunk and never home?"

John stared at her. "Our son."

"Whatever," she said.

His eyes narrowed. "Dean is as much my son as he is yours."

"Of course he is, that's not the point," Mary said in exasperation.

"If you'd told me what was going on, I'd have made sure I was home earlier," John exploded.

"And during the day?" she said, folding her arms.

"What?"

"What would you have done with Dean while you were at work?" Her eyes flashed and she knew she needed to calm down but John was being so pig-headed.

He just looked at her, a vein pulsing in his temple. He took a swig of bourbon and exhaled loudly. "You're right."

She could hardly believe her ears. "I am?"

"Yeah. I couldn't have taken time off work, not since we lost the Merchant contract. And I couldn't take Dean to work with me, could I? So, you were right. I'm sorry. I'm an ass."

Her mouth softened. "I know it hasn't been easy for you, adjusting to being a father. You were so young when your dad left, I guess you never had many good role models."

"Yeah," John said, swigging another mouthful. She finished her glass and placed it on the table. He lifted the bottle and raised his eyebrows, but she shook her head. If she drank too much, she sleep so deeply she wouldn't hear Dean if he woke up. Something John had said tickled at the back of her mind.

"You lost the Merchant contract?" she asked.

"Yeah," John said. "Jerry's business was a major income stream for us. But he's dropped us in favor of Darryl Cropper's."

"Damn," she said. "Did he say why?"

"Darryl offered him a cheaper deal. He's a bigger concern than we are, can negotiate lower wholesale prices on parts."

"But Jerry's business is pretty small fry, really," Mary objected. "Seems strange Darryl would bother to compete with you."

"I don't know what to tell you," John said tiredly. "But you understand why I was mad you left Dean with him and Gina when he just dropped us like a hot brick."

"I'll talk to Gina," Mary decided. "Maybe I can convince them to switch back."

"No!" John said quickly and she frowned at him. "Contract's signed, there's nothing Gina could do."

"OK," she said. "Look, I'm beat. Let's talk again in the morning."

"Sure," John said, smiling at her. "I'll be up soon."


	3. Chapter 3

Mary picked up the package of blueberries and laughed as Dean reached out for them, his face alight.

"Boobey!" he declared. Mary cracked up at how it sounded like he was saying 'boobies'. A couple of older women gave her a stern look. She ignored them. _Dried up old fossils._ She'd have to tell John about this later. It would be good to hear him laugh again.

"Blueberries," she said to Dean, emphasizing the consonant sounds.

"Boobey," Dean said, nodding and smiling. "Dean like boobey!" He reached out to the box and squeezed. There was a popping sound and the box of blueberries exploded open, berries flying in all directions.

"Dean!" Mary exclaimed. He giggled at the berries rolling all over the floor. "You're a menace to society!"

She got down on her knees and started scooping up the errant fruit, swearing creatively under her breath. A hand came down on her shoulder and she whirled around, grabbing the wrist and twisting it behind the owner's back.

"Ow, ow, ow!" the man yelped in pain. He was wearing a shirt with the name of the store on it and a badge that proclaimed his name as Len.

Mary let go immediately and covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she gasped.

He gave her a shy smile. "You don't take any prisoners, do you?"

"Momma, bad," Dean said, tugging on her shirt. She looked down at him and his eyes were wide and shimmering with tears.

She brushed her knuckles against his cheek. "I'm OK, sweetie."

"No," Dean said, shaking his head. He eyed Len nervously. "Bad."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "He's a little shy around strangers." It wasn't true, actually Dean was a happy, social child and she'd never seen him behave this way before. But she was embarrassed and what else could she do?

"It's OK," Len said. He was cute, actually. Short dark hair, and soulful brown eyes, tan skin and a hint of dark stubble. "What's his name? How old is he?"

"Dean, he's thirteen months," Mary said.

"Wow," Len said. "Nice to meet you, Dean. I'm Len." He held out his hand and tried to shake Dean's but her boy pulled away in terror.

"I'm sorry," Mary said. "I really am."

"It's OK," Len said. "Really. I'll clean up this mess. You go get a fresh box of blueberries."

"Boobey?" Dean said.

Len snorted, throwing his head back and giving it the fully belly laugh. "Oh my God," he chortled. Dean was staring at him curiously as he laughed. He turned a confused look on his mom and she grinned at him. Slowly, a smile started to spread across his face.

"Boobey!" he declared. And then he started to giggle. Len was weeping, he was laughing so hard. Mary couldn't help but join in, Len's amusement was infectious.

"Oh," he said finally, when he'd regained his composure. "He's adorable."

"I know," Mary said, looking fondly at her boy.

"Go on," Len said, shooing her away. "I've got this."

"Thank you," she said. Biting her lip, she knew she should just walk away. But he seemed like such a nice man and surely it wouldn't hurt… "Can I buy you coffee? To say thank you?" she blurted out.

He blinked in surprise and then smiled. "Sure. Uh, my shift here ends at 3pm." He checked his watch. "Or is that too long to wait?" His smile faltered a little.

"No, it's fine," Mary assured him. "I've got several more errands to run. There's a coffee shop across the street. I'll meet you there at 3?"

"Deal," he said.

* * *

Mike walked into the garage's small office, pinching the bridge of his nose at the pain that threatened to crack open his skull. Things weren't looking good for the business. Two more regulars had announced they were taking their business elsewhere. Neither one had come right out and told Mike it was because of these rumors about John, but he could tell by the shifty way they couldn't meet his eyes that they'd heard. Lawrence was a small, conservative town in a conservative state. Rumors like this spread like wildfire and if they didn't do something soon, they'd burn their business to the ground.

There was a man standing out in the workshop and Mike frowned in confusion. The only cars in there were Mrs Jacobs' Oldsmobile again and Mike's own Ford pickup that needed a new timing belt.

He opened the office door. "Can I help you?"

The man turned around, and Mike almost gasped. He'd never seen such blue eyes on anyone before. They looked almost unnatural. The man was barely a man really, more like a boy. Mike wondered if he was still in school. If so, his father really needed to have a word about his hair. It was longer than some girls wore it these days.

"My name is Michael," the blond said.

"Are you John's Michael?" Mike blurted out.

Michael looked startled. "He talked about me?"

"What? No, I mean, he mentioned you. Once." He sounded like a babbling idiot. He was struck by, despite being clearly male, how much Michael resembled Mary which was just plain weird when he started to think about it.

"I understand that the business is not doing so well," Michael said.

"Well, we've had a bit of a rough patch," Mike allowed. "No thanks to you."

"Me?" Michael said, sounding surprised. But it didn't quite ring true.

"You must have heard the rumors all over town about the two of you. Not that I would care," he added hastily when Michael's eyebrows dived over his nose. "But John's got a sweet little boy and his wife is a terrific woman. I'd hate to see them hurt."

"I see," Michael said. "And these rumors are hurting the business?"

"Yes," Mike admitted. He didn't know why he was telling this to a total stranger, but Michael gave off this aura of trustworthiness. He found himself wanting to tell him everything.

"Very well," Michael said. "Perhaps I should leave town. If I am not here, people cannot make up stories about me."

Mike furrowed his brow. Before this man had walked into the garage, the idea that John Winchester of all people would risk his marriage, his reputation and possibly in a town like this, his life, seemed insane. But there was something magnetic about this man. Mike had never had a gay thought in his life, but as he stared at Michael's mouth he found himself wondering.

Michael cocked an eyebrow at him as if he knew what Mike was thinking. He turned and walked away and Mike let out an explosive breath, his entire body quivering. He swallowed hard and headed for the restroom.

* * *

"And finally, we return to our top story. Police are appealing for witnesses in the mysterious disappearance of three students from the University of Kansas. Corinna Sheridan, Gregory Fishman and Jamie Teel were all friends from high school and decided to car pool in Jamie's silver Subaru Outback. They left their homes in Salina on Saturday morning and were expected to call their parents when they arrived in Lawrence. But when they didn't check in that afternoon and still hadn't made contact by Sunday morning, they were reported missing to Salina police. A witness came forward saying the group bought gas at this E Crawford St gas station at around 11am, but no other sightings of the three or the vehicle have been reported.

"Family and friends of the three students say that they were all excited to start the new school year and there's no reason why any of them would want to intentionally disappear. Police say that none of their bank accounts have been touched since Saturday. If you have any information on any of these missing persons or have seen the silver Subaru with the tag HIP 844 to call the number on your screen."

Mary turned it off, her mouth turned down. Three college kids, vanished without a trace. Once, she'd have convinced herself it was a case, spent hours trying to track down whatever monster had snatched them and hope she could bring them home. After retiring from the hunting community, she'd come to realize that not all monsters had fangs and claws, or could be stopped with salt and flame.

The phone rang and Dean toddled towards it and picked up the receiver. "Hello," he said. The person at the other end must have been speaking because Dean's expression was what Mary called his listening face. Mary held her hand out for the phone but he turned away from her. "No. Mine." She could still hear the voice of someone on the other end.

"Give it here, Dean," she said firmly. He hid it behind his back, a cheeky smile on his face. She pulled a face at him and he dissolved into giggles. She snatched the receiver from his hand.

"Hello? Sorry about that."

"It's OK," Gina said, laughing. "How are you, Mary?"

"Good," she said. "John and I still have our moments, but things are better than they were. At least he's cut back on the drinking and the business has started picking up again."

"That's great," Gina said. "Look, I know John was mad that Jerry moved his service agreements to Darryl Cropper, but it really was just a business decision."

"I know," Mary sighed. "It's fine, it was just a blow at the time. Half the time we're barely breaking even on that place."

"Well, that's why I'm calling," Gina said. "Jerry's friend from college, Hank Bisset, is moving back to Lawrence. He just got D.I.V.O.R.C.E.D."

Mary struggled to remember the name. It sounded vaguely familiar. "Wait, was he the guy who got arrested with Jerry at the anti-Vietnam demo?"

"That's him. He's opening a pizza delivery restaurant, right here in Lawrence," Gina said excitedly. "So I convinced him that he should have his delivery vehicles serviced by John and Mike."

Mary's mouth dropped open. "Gina! That's fantastic. Thank you so much!" She paused. "What did Jerry have to say about it?"

Gina cleared her throat. "He's probably gonna come by and ask if John will work on his trucks again. Darryl's work is OK, but he's so busy the scheduling is a nightmare. I mean, if John and Mike will have him back."

"Of course they will," Mary declared. "Gina, this is so great!" Dean had gotten bored and returned to his toy fire engine, one of his favorites. He started making siren noises with his mouth. Mary covered the mouthpiece. "Shh, baby. Mommy's on the phone."

Dean turned and pouted at her and then returned to his playing.

"Would you and Jerry like to come over for dinner?" Mary asked impulsively.

"We'd love to," Gina replied. "I'll bring dessert. My famous peach cobbler."

"Terrific. Would tomorrow work? John usually gets home around six."

"Definitely. We'll see you then." Gina hung up and Mary smiled. She turned her attention back to her son, who was holding his truck in the air as if offering it to someone.

"What you doing, baby?" she asked.

"Fire truck," Dean said. "For the man."

"What man, sweetie? There's no man here."

"That man there," Dean said, pointing to the space in front of him. Mary wondered if he'd developed an imaginary friend.

"Well, I don't see him," she said. "What's his name?"

"Michael," Dean said. He put the truck down. "Bye bye."

"Oh, did he leave?" Mary asked. Dean turned to her and grinned. She was so blessed, she thought.

"Dink!" Dean declared.

"OK, honey, let's get you a drink," she said. "But what do we say?"

"Dink?" She leveled a look at him and he giggled. "Pwease?"

"OK, good enough," she said. She got up and walked into the kitchen, holding out her hand to Dean who determinedly tottered forward and grabbed it. His walking was really coming along well, and she was sure he'd be running soon. He seemed to _want_ to run, like he had too much energy and needed to expend some of it. "How about some lunch, too?"

Dean cocked his head at her. "Nana."

"You want a banana?" He nodded enthusiastically. "OK, how about some toast and peanut butter, and a banana?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. And then he turned his head slowly to look at the back door. It was a peculiarly controlled action for such a young child. He waved.

"Who you waving at, baby?" She grabbed Dean's sippy cup from the cabinet and opened the fridge. She selected the apple juice and poured some into the cup.

"Michael. He gonna go talk to Daddy." Dean accepted the proffered drink and sucked on it happily.

"Is that right? Does he know Daddy well?" Mary asked.

"Yeah. They play cowboy and horsey, just like me and Daddy."

Mary stared at him, puzzled. "What do you mean, sweetie?"

Dean chewed on his lip. "Daddy is horsey, and me cowboy." He did a funny little jumping dance that Mary recognized as miming riding a horse.

She laughed. "OK. Well, maybe Michael will come by and play horsey with you later."

Dean frowned at her. "Only Daddy can be horsey."

"Oh," she said. "Well I'm sure he'll be back to play something else." She pulled out bread and peanut butter from the pantry and began making Dean something to eat.

* * *

The reins Gina had recommended for Dean were a Godsend. Now that he was walking more confidently, he'd become quite the explorer and had sent Mary into a panic more than once when she'd turn her back for a second and he'd disappear. The reins kept him within her sight but allowed him a small amount of freedom which he seemed to enjoy.

Len, the friend she'd made at the grocery store, had just been promoted to assistant manager and he was talking to one of the shelf stockers when Mary approached the dairy fridge. He patted the other man on the back and then turned a charming smile on Mary.

"Well if it isn't my favorite customers," he said. "High five, Dean" He offered up his hand and Dean smacked his palm against it before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"How are you, Len?" she said warmly. Since their first meeting, they'd had coffee every week after she'd done her shopping. They'd discovered a mutual love of detective novels and had a friendly rivalry going over the Lawrence Journal Sunday crossword.

"I'm good. How did you get on with this week's puzzle," he asked.

Mary grimaced. "That was a tough one. Have they hired a new puzzle-setter?"

"Maybe," Len said. "You're right, it was hard. I barely got halfway through before I gave up."

Mary laughed, unfolding her copy from her purse. "Then I win." Dean tugged at the reins and she drew him in closer, handing him his toy bear. He sat down on the floor beside her feet and began talking to Bear.

Len was gaping at the puzzle she'd handed him. "You only missed two clues?"

She shrugged. "We don't know if I got all the answers right."

"Which ones did you skip?" Len mused, scanning the puzzle. "Thirteen across, Imitate round dance, finally leads to disaster. 10 letters. No, I didn't get that one either." His eyes jumped to the other missing answer. "And seven down. Craft in which wives seldom excel. Six letters." He grinned. "I got that one. Vessel."

Mary snatched the crossword back and glared at it. "Dammit, you're right."

Dean looked up at her. "Dammit!" he repeated, laughing.

Mary wanted to kick herself. "No, Dean," she said gently. "That's a bad word."

"You said it," Dean objected.

"I know, honey, but I shouldn't have, OK?"

"OK," Dean grumbled and returned his attention to Bear.

Len was peering at the puzzle again, a strange look on his face. "Huh."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know. It's just, normally these things don't have much of a theme. But doesn't this one seem quite… Biblical?" He looked embarrassed. "I was never much of a one for Sunday School."

"Ah!" Mary exclaimed as inspiration struck. "I've got it! Thirteen across is APOCALYPSE!" She snatched the puzzle back and scribbled in her answer. She looked up at Len, grinned broadly and then on some strange impulse, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He flushed and their eyes locked.

"Mary," he whispered.

She backed away, her eyes frightened. "I should go. My friend Gina is coming over for dinner, so I've got to be back by four."

Len nodded, giving her an awkward smile. "Will I see you next week?"

Mary fumbled her keys as she was fishing them out of her purse. "Uh, maybe. I dunno. I'll call you." She hurried away, flustered and confused. Len watched her leave and then leaned back against the wall. Another man, short with dark hair and a well-tailored suit came to stand next to him.

"You scared her off," he observed.

"She scared herself off," Len said. "She'll be back. Sooner or later, her no-good husband will backslide into his bad habits and I'll be here to pick up the pieces."

Crowley frowned at him uncertainly. "You seem very sure of yourself."

"I'm sure of her," Len said. "Tell your mistress everything is proceeding according to plan."

"I will," Crowley said, giving him a mock salute. "We'll be in touch. You'll be well rewarded if this works."

* * *

Dinner was a success, even if Mary privately thought her pot roast was not as good as her mother's. Gina's cobbler was as delicious as ever, and even John had praised it, though he wasn't a big fan of sweets.

The bumps in the road of John and Jerry's friendship seemed to be behind them. Gina and Mary went through to the living room with their wine while John went outside with Jerry so that they could smoke.

"I'm surprised Thomas didn't wake up in the middle of dinner," Mary said.

"He's much better now," Gina told her. "It was the damndest thing, but I read this article in Southern Living magazine about energy flows and some mystic Asian thing called feng shui, that you can use to rearrange your furniture to ensure the energy flows in the right way."

Mary gave her a skeptical look and she laughed. "OK, I know it sounds weird. But I moved Tommy's crib and toy box and so on, and it seemed to work. Now he sleeps through the night, every night."

"Interesting," Mary said. She frowned and gazed at her friend for a moment. "Gina, does Thomas have an imaginary friend?"

Gina shook her head. "Not as far as I know." She gave Mary a knowing look. "Is this about Dean?"

"Yeah," Mary said in surprise. "You knew about this?"

"I didn't think anything of it at the time," Gina said, sounding defensive. "Last time Dean stayed over at our house, he mentioned his friend Michael. I couldn't figure out who it was, none of the kids in our library group are called Michael. In fact, the only Michael I know is Mike Guenther, John's business partner. And everyone calls him Mike, even his wife."

"It's probably nothing to worry about," Mary said, taking a sip of wine. "I mean, plenty of kids have imaginary friends and they all grow up to be fine. It's just the sign of a healthy imagination, I figured."

"Right," Gina said, drawing out the sound. "That's why you're fretting about it, because it's _so_ normal."

"OK, OK," Mary said, holding up her hands. "I surrender. Yeah, it's odd, OK. It's hard to explain, but this doesn't seem like a typical imaginary friend."

"Why do you say that?" Gina asked.

"Have you seen Dean interact with 'Michael'?" Mary asked.

"No," Gina said. "I only overheard him chattering to Tommy about it, and I asked him who Michael was."

"What did he say?"

"He called him the yellow man who visits Daddy's work." Mary's eyes widened. "I asked him why the man was yellow, and he said his hair was yellow."

"He means blond," Mary said.

"I would think so," Gina said. "So I assumed it was someone John and Mike knew. Kids can overlay all kinds of fantasies even on real things and people. My brother Derek was convinced my Auntie Julie was a werewolf when we were kids."

Mary knew she was supposed to laugh at this point, so she did, but her heart wasn't in it. Julie Amsing _had_ been a werewolf. Mary and her dad had killed Julie two weeks before Mary graduated high school.

"Werewolf," she said scornfully.

"Can you imagine?" Gina chortled. "He also claimed the school gym was haunted. He had an active imagination, that's for sure." Well, he'd been wrong about that. As far as Mary knew, there was nothing supernatural about the school.

"What's he doing these days, anyway?" she asked.

"Who knows," Gina said, her face sobering. "He hasn't been in touch since Dad died."

"I'm sorry," Mary said.

Gina gave a careless gesture. "What can I do? He knows my door is always open to him." She blanked her face for a moment and took a mouthful of wine. "Did you hear that story about the college kids that went missing?"

"It was on the news yesterday," Mary recalled. "Have they found them?"

"Not exactly," Gina said. "They found the car, though, abandoned at Stull United Methodist Church."

Mary couldn't keep the look of alarm off her face. "Opposite the cemetery?" she asked.

"Yes," Gina said, looking concerned. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Mary denied. Gina gave her a stern look. "Stull's got a nasty reputation, OK?"

"Really? Like drug addicts hang out there or something?" Gina asked.

"Didn't you hear the stories, growing up?" Mary asked.

"What, you mean that silly article in the university newspaper back in the seventies, about the Devil appearing in Stull twice a year? Come on, Mary, you don't believe in that nonsense that do you?"

"The article might have been silly, but my mom and dad always warned me to stay away from that place," Mary said. "And Father McKinley, God rest his soul, told me there was a Gate to Hell there. He died when I was in fourth grade, so the rumors about Stull didn't start with some college paper."

Gina was looking seriously disturbed. "Mary, they're just stories. Why would there be an entrance to Hell in Stull of all places? Why would the devil bother coming here? Surely there are more fun places for a fallen angel to hang out."

"I don't know," Mary said. "But this whole thing is starting to give me the creeps. Let's talk about something else. Didn't you say Linda Ashbolt is expecting again?"

* * *

"So how are you and Mary doing?" Jerry asked, sucking on his Marlboro and squinting at John.

"OK," John said. "Things are looking up on the business side at last, partly because of you, Jerry."

"I fucked up," Jerry said bluntly. "I'm sorry, John. I shouldn't have said what I said."

"Yeah, well, it's all water under the bridge," John said, a little stiffly.

"Your Dean's growing up to be a fine boy," Jerry said contemplatively, taking the hint to move the conversation on.

"Yeah," John said, smiling. "He's a great kid."

Jerry eyed him speculatively. "Ever think about having another?"

John shrugged. "Maybe. Mary said she wanted Dean to be a bit older before giving him a brother or sister."

"Gina's pregnant," Jerry said.

John stared at him, and then broke into a huge grin. "Hey, why didn't you say anything at dinner?"

Jerry winced. "It's early days. You know Gina lost two babies before Tommy was born?"

"No, Jerry, I didn't. I'm sorry." John supped at his beer, unsure what else to say.

"Yeah, we'd almost given up hope of her ever carrying to term," Jerry said. "So when Tommy was born, he was like our little angel from Heaven. I don't know what it'll do to Gina if she loses this one too."

"I guess it's God's will," John said.

"Sure it is," Jerry said. "But my Gina's been through enough. Can't it be someone else's turn?"

John gaped at him, horrified. Jerry flushed in shame. "I've had too much to drink," he said.

John patted him on the back. "It'll be OK, Jerry. You've just gotta have faith."


	4. Chapter 4

"Please," the tearstricken woman on the TV begged. "I just want my daughter to come home. Whoever you are, we don't care what you've done. Just send my Corrie home!" The picture changed to the local newscaster who stared solemnly at the camera.

"That was Deborah Sheridan pleading for the safe return of her daughter Corinna who disappeared with her friends Jamie Teel and Gregory Fishman three months ago. The body of Gregory Fishman was discovered in Deer Creek last month and Jamie Teel was found just last week in Riverfront Park on the banks of the Kansas River."

"She's dead," Mary said to herself as she picked up some of Dean's toys. He did seem to delight in spreading them everywhere. He was focused on his Legos, building what looked like a car, albeit with square wheels he'd fashioned himself. She needed to get him some proper wheel Lego pieces.

"No!" Dean said.

"I have to tidy up, sweetheart," she said. "Daddy will be home soon."

But he wasn't looking at her, he was pointing at the TV. She frowned at him, puzzled. "What is it, Dean?"

"Michael says the lady is sleeping," Dean said. A shiver passed down Mary's spine. "But she's very cold."

"Did he say where she's sleeping?" Mary asked cautiously.

"Onna boat," Dean said, losing interest in the TV. His tongue poked out as he concentrated on his construction.

"On a boat, huh? Like a big boat, a ship?" she asked.

Dean laughed. "No, Mommy. A little boat. With sticks."

"Sticks?" Mary said, puzzled. She scanned a couple of books in the pile she'd made and flipped through one until she'd found what she wanted, the drawing of a rowboat. "Sticks like this?" she asked, showing him the picture.

"Boat!" Dean said. "Sticks." He poked the page with one finger.

"And did he say where the boat is?" Mary said, her voice trembling.

Dean turned his head and looked into the corner. "Hennypo."

That didn't mean anything to Mary. "I don't know where that is."

Dean rolled over onto his stomach. "Pie!"

Apparently that conversation was over, she thought. "You want pie? For dinner?" He looked delighted. "No, Dean, you can't have pie for dinner. But if you're good and eat all your vegetables, you can have some pie after dinner, OK?"

Dean's face twisted but he knew how the game worked by now. "OK, mommy."

But his declarations about Corinna Sheridan wouldn't leave her alone. Finally, after wrestling with her conscience, she called an old friend of the family.

"Hello, Mary," Missouri Mosely said as soon as she picked up the phone.

"Missouri," Mary said, her voice shaking. She'd avoided Missouri ever since she'd got married because she represented the supernatural world she wanted to leave behind. But it seemed that maybe that world wasn't done with her. "Missouri, would you know if my son was psychic?"

"No, child," Missouri said. "Not this one."

"What?"

"Dean's not psychic. He is a sensitive and he can probably converse with spirits but he's not like me."

"He said something really weird today," Mary told her. "Something about that missing girl."

"I don't know if I have the answers you're seeking," Missouri said gently.

"Damn," Mary said. "Maybe it's nothing. I'm sorry I troubled you."

"Wait," Missouri said sharply. "I didn't say it was nothing. Just that whatever took Corinna Sheridan was not human, and very powerful. It's able to hide itself from my sight. Tell me what he said."

"So he's got this imaginary friend called Michael," Mary said and the psychic inhaled loudly. "Do you know something about that?"

"I- No," Missouri said but her voice was quivering.

"Well, Dean said Corinna was in a rowboat on Hennypo. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Did he actually say rowboat?" Missouri asked.

"No, he said boat with sticks, I just assumed..."

"You're a Campbell, you know better than that. Could he mean Henry's pond?"

"Where's that?" Mary asked.

"It's a trout pond at Clinton Lake Park," Missouri told her. When Mary made a surprised sound she added, "I like to fish."

"You do?" Mary blinked at the incongruity of the image. "So the boat with sticks?"

"There's a pontoon, it's like a raft," Missouri said. "Logs roped together and extending into the water. You can sit on them to fish further out into the pond."

"Oh God," Mary said. "Are you saying she's out there?"

"It's possible," Missouri allowed. "Let me call this in. The local PD know me and know I'm not a crank. Let's keep you and Dean out of it."

"Really? Thank you, Missouri," Mary said gratefully.

"There's a price," she said.

"Anything."

"Bring Dean to see me. I need to know more about this imaginary friend of his."

* * *

"A psychic," Gina said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes," Mary said firmly. "She's an old friend of the family."

"So why do you need me to come with you?" Gina said, folding her arms and giving her a look.

"I don't, exactly," Mary admitted. Gina narrowed her eyes at her. "I thought Missouri might be able to put your mind at rest. About the baby."

Gina's mouth drooped. "If I want to know how my baby's doing I'll ask a doctor, not a fraudster!"

"Missouri's not a fraud," Mary said. "I swear."

Gina threw up her arms. "OK, fine! But we're going so she can see Dean. Don't you dare ask her about me." Mary smiled at her in gratitude and Gina narrowed her eyes at her. "Why are you nervous about seeing her, if she's such an old friend?"

Mary winced, Gina knew her too well. "I'm not nervous about seeing her. I'm nervous about what she'll see in Dean."

"Why?" Gina asked. "Dean's the sweetest, happiest, most well-adjusted kid I've ever met, and I'm including Tommy in that. If ever there was a child that you wouldn't worry about how they were gonna turn out, it's Dean."

Mary quirked her lips at Gina. "I know, it sounds stupid. But you know, I've never told you this but when I was pregnant with him, he used to talk to me."

"OK, now I know you've flipped your lid," Gina said. "How could a developing fetus talk to you?"

"OK, not talk but… communicate. I knew when he was comfortable, when he was unhappy. When I was hurting he would comfort me. In the last few days before I gave birth, he was excited. Didn't you feel that way with Thomas?"

"No," Gina said, looking slightly concerned.

"I'm not psychotic, Gina. There's something special about Dean. I can feel it."

"Well, if we're gonna go see this psychic, we better get going," Gina said. She followed Mary to her car, Tommy bouncing behind her. Dean had already scrambled into the backseat and was beating his hands against the dusty velour.

"Tommy, sit here!" he exclaimed. Tommy dutifully sat next to Dean and produced a dinosaur toy. "Cool!" Dean said. "What's his name?"

"Deano," Tommy said shyly.

Dean laughed, jumping up and down on the seat. "I'm a dinosaur too! Rawr!"

"Sit down, Dean," Mary said, chuckling. She pulled out of Gina's drive and headed for Missouri's house. Gina turned on the radio and fiddled with the dial. The Sex Pistols started blaring and Mary glared at her.

"Sorry," Gina said. She turned the dial again.

"...the body of Corinna Sheridan was discovered early yesterday at Henry's Pond in Clinton Lake State Park, bringing to a tragic close the hopes of her parents and the community. Police are not revealing any details of how any of the missing students died leading to speculation that they might have been the victim of a serial killer. Unconfirmed reports suggest that the FBI may be taking over the investigation, but the agency has so far declined to comment."

Gina met Mary's eyes. "So they did find her."

"Yes. Exactly where Dean said she would be."

Gina shivered and then kept turning the dial.

 _Carry on my wayward son,_

 _There'll be peace when you are done,_

 _Lay your weary head to rest,_

 _Don't you cry no more._

"Don' cry no more!" Dean yelled from the back seat.

"Your son's a rock fan?"

Mary gave her a rueful look. "He gets his taste in music from John."

* * *

Missouri Moseley wasn't exactly what Gina was expecting. Admittedly, her image of psychics was based entirely on Solitaire from the James Bond movie, Live and Let Die. Missouri was a plump African American woman with a kind face and a taste in clothes not dissimilar to Gina's own, comfortable, practical clothing without a single rhinestone, mystical symbol or large hooped earring in sight.

Mary and Missouri had hugged tightly, a few tears appearing in Missouri's eyes although she was able to subtly wipe them away before Mary saw them. Gina narrowed her eyes at the woman. She seemed nice enough, but Gina was going to stick with her instincts.

"This is my friend, Gina and her boy Tommy," Mary said.

Gina shook Missouri's hand and a sad smile appeared on the psychic's face. "Nice to meet you, Gina." Tommy had taken one look at her and fled behind Gina's legs.

"I'm sorry," Gina apologized. "He's kinda shy."

"Don't worry about it," Missouri assured her. "Children can see all kinds of things adults can't. Auras, for example. Mine would look quite terrifying if you didn't know what it meant."

Gina bit her tongue. Auras indeed!

"You're a skeptic," Missouri added. Gina gave an uncomfortable shrug. "It's OK, skepticism is healthy."

"And this is Dean," Mary said, drawing her son forward. Missouri knelt down so that she could look him in the eye.

"Nice to meet you," Missouri said, holding out her hand. Dean grinned at her and took it, shaking it up and down vigorously.

"Whoo!" Missouri said. "Haven't you got a strong grip?"

"I'm nearly three," Dean said incongruously.

"Of course you are, I can see that," Missouri said. "Now, your Mom tells me you have a special friend. A magic friend that nobody else can see."

Dean shuffled away from her, his face falling. "No."

Missouri looked up at Mary. "He's been told not to talk about it." Mary's eyes widened in fear. Missouri returned her attention to Dean. "It's OK, Dean. You can tell me about it. I see things other people can't see too."

"Daddy sees him," Dean whispered.

"He does?" Missouri said. "OK. What can you tell me about him, Dean?"

"He's tall and his hair is yellow. He likes dinosaurs, like me." Dean's face had taken on a mulish pout. "And he knew where the pretty lady was sleeping."

"The pretty lady with the red hair?" Missouri prompted.

"Yeah. She was sleeping on a boat. Michael said that a bad man hurt her. But…" Dean looked puzzled. "He said it was OK. That she was happy now. But she should be sad. When I hurt, I'm sad."

Missouri stood up. "He's got a remarkably developed sense of empathy for his age. You're gonna have to make sure he grows a thick skin, Mary."

"So what killed those kids?"

"A demon," Missouri said. Mary blanched. "I'll make some calls. Demons are a big deal, we're gonna need the big guns." Gina's gaze flicked between her friend and the psychic. Now they were talking about demons? And even weirder, Mary didn't seem surprised.

"What about this imaginary friend?"

The psychic gave a sigh. "Is real. I don't know what it is, but Dean's image of him is too clear to be made up."

"And John can see him too?" Mary challenged.

Missouri's hand twitched, but Gina suspected Mary didn't notice. If this woman was for real, there was something she'd seen in Dean's mind she didn't want to share.

"This entity may be able to control perceptions of it," Missouri said. "John may not even realize nobody else can see him."

"But why is he only interacting with John and Dean?" Mary pressed. "What is it about them that makes it want to speak to them? Dean might have some of the gifts that have appeared in my family from time to time, but John's as apple pie ordinary as anyone you've ever met."

"I don't know," Missouri said. "I wish I could tell you more. I can say this, whatever it is, it doesn't mean any harm to John or Dean."

Mary relaxed. "You're saying it's harmless."

"No!," Missouri said sharply. "I'm saying it has no intention of hurting either of your boys. And it seems to be neutral towards you, I'd say you just don't interest it." Gina could see that this psychic had managed to calm Mary's fears. Perhaps that was worth something after all. Missouri turned to Gina and smiled at her, but again there was that tinge of sadness. "You're blooming, my dear. Everything will be well, I promise. Your daughter is thriving."

Gina's hand flew to her mouth. "My daughter?"

"Yes, dear," Missouri said.

"I hadn't told anyone," Gina said wonderingly. "Even Jerry doesn't know, because he said he wanted it to be a surprise. But I had to know. Because…"

"Because all the babies you've lost were girls. I know. But you mustn't worry. She's gonna be just fine."

Gina just stared at her and then burst into tears.


	5. Chapter 5

_Six Months Later_

Mary hugged Gina tightly, her eyes brimming with joy. "She's perfect! May I?" She held out her arms and Gina placed the tiny baby girl in her arms. "So you called her Madeleine after your mom?"

"Yeah, and Veronica after Jerry's mom." Gina ruffled Tommy's hair and he glared at her.

"Madeleine Veronica Merchant," Mary said. "That's quite mouthful."

"Eh, we're already calling her Maddy," Gina said. "I'm just grateful that she made it. When I had that scare last month-"

"Shh," Mary said. "It all worked out for the best. And she is just gorgeous!" She tickled the baby under her chin and she burped. Dean ran over and grabbed Tommy's hand.

"Come see my bike, Tommy!"

"I'm coming," Tommy said and they both went haring off.

Gina watched them fondly. "Haven't you and John thought about another kid?"

Mary shrugged. "I don't think so, Gina. John works such long hours, and Dean's sweet but he's such a handful now, I'm not sure I could cope with another baby."

"You two aren't getting along again?" she said sympathetically.

Mary made a face. "You know me too well. Yeah, it's not been so great. John's does this thing where he's distant and doesn't want to be touched. What am I supposed to do?"

"Have an affair," Gina said promptly and burst out laughing. Mary's mouth dropped open, appalled. "Oh lighten up," Gina said at her expression. "It was only a joke. You and John are a forever couple, everyone knows that."

"Except the time you thought he was sleeping with some high school senior," Mary said tartly.

Gina pursed her lips. "Jerry and I got it wrong. We said we were sorry."

"I know," Mary sighed. "I didn't mean to chew over old bones. I just… I want my John back. The happy, simple family man I married. I don't know what changed, but something did."

"Sometimes, you need to make time just for the two of you," Gina advised. "Why doesn't Dean come over for a sleepover with Tommy. You and John can have some quality time together."

Mary smiled at her. "That's a great suggestion. Thank you, Gina. I might just take you up on that offer."

* * *

Mary looked up at the clock and bit her lip. It was after seven and John had promised to be home by six. She'd dropped Dean off at Gina and Jerry's and prepared everything for dinner so that she had very little to do once John got home. And then she'd sat here and waited. And waited.

Finally, when the clock reached 7:30, she decided to call. She picked up the phone and dialed the number of the garage. It rang four times and then the answering machine picked up. She didn't bother to listen to the message she could recite by heart. Where else could John be? It occurred to her that if he was working late and had an accident, maybe he couldn't reach the phone. She decided to call Mike.

"Hey, Mike," she said when he answered.

"Mary?" Mike said, sounding puzzled. "Is everything OK?"

"I don't know," she said. "John was supposed to be home over an hour ago but there's no sign of him and I can't get an answer at the garage."

"Well, he told me he was leaving at 5pm on the dot," Mike said. "I had to leave early to go deposit this week's earnings before the bank closed but it wasn't like he had much left to do."

"Could he have had an accident?" Mary fretted.

"I'm sure he's OK," Mike said. "Look, tell you what. Why don't I drive over and see if he's still there? It's only ten minutes away and I'll call you from the office."

"OK," Mary said. Her eyes prickled with tears but she sniffed and gritted her teeth. _It was going to be OK,_ she told herself. _It had to be._

* * *

Mike pulled into the small parking lot by the garage that they shared with the tenants of the unit next door, a painting and decorating company. Everything was dark, but John's distinctive Chevy Impala was still parked out front. He frowned to himself, if the car was here, John surely had to be inside.

He climbed out of his car and began to stride across the road. He was really mad at John this time. Mary was a sweet woman, and hot as Hell. She'd arranged a night in for the two of them, according to John. Why would he not have raced home as soon as he could? Hell, Mike wouldn't have minded if they'd shut up shop early when he left for the bank.

A man stepped into his path and he pulled up short, dodging to try and go around. The man put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said.

Mike looked at him. He was tall, broad-shouldered but slender, with thick dark hair and dark brown eyes. "Who the Hell are you?"

"That's not important," his assailant said. "You can't go in there."

"It's my goddamn business," Mike said, shaking him off. "You can't tell me I can't enter my own property."

"I really didn't want it to come to this," the man said. Out of nowhere, Mike saw his fist flying and then everything went black.

Len watched Mike Guenther topple to the ground and grimaced. He was so bored of this gig. He grabbed his arms and dragged him back to his truck. In the footwell he found a bottle of vodka and he was struck with an idea. He poured as much vodka down the unconscious man's throat as he could and slung him in the back seat. With any luck he'd wake up with a killer hangover and not much memory of what had happened. And if everything went to plan tonight, he could blow this crappy town and never look back.

A sound caught his attention and he ducked behind the pickup. Mary's blonde hair was like a candle in the darkness as she marched along the poorly maintained sidewalk, her arms swinging and her face set. Len grinned to himself. _Showtime_.

* * *

Mary unlocked the garage door with her spare key and carefully pushed the door open. She ignored her desire to call out and instead stayed quiet. She might not have hunted much in the last few years but she still could move silently if she needed to. There was a light in the office and the blinds were drawn. She could hear sounds and voices, but they were too faint to make anything out. Carefully she picked her way across the workshop floor, avoiding the odd discarded spark plug and the two mechanic's creepers.

The sounds were louder now, and there was a rhythmic thumping that she couldn't quite identify. She crept up the the office window and peered in between the slats of the Venetian blind. The sight that presented itself made her gasp and cover her mouth to prevent any further noise. She couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

John was face down on the small desk, his head turned towards the window but his eyes were closed. His pants were around his ankles and his t-shirt shoved up around his armpits. Pinning him in place were the bare well-muscled arms of another man. This stranger was totally nude, and he was positioned behind John, thrusting his cock in and out of John's body and making him gasp and pant, familiar and unmistakable sounds of his sexual pleasure.

She didn't recognize the stranger. His longish, curly blond hair and sculpted looks seemed almost unreal to her. His eyes opened, impossibly blue and looking right at her. And then he smiled, a slow, cruel smile that made her want to cry out. She stumbled backwards, her hands still over her mouth and ran for the door.

She ran all the way back to her car, desperately fighting the sobs that threatened to engulf her. This couldn't be happening. It was like a bad dream. She threw the car into drive and drove almost blindly, tears dripping down her face. Somehow she managed to make it back to her street and she didn't see the man crossing until the last second. She swerved, the car spinning out of control and slamming into a tree.

She sat there for a moment, unable to quite comprehend what had happened. Then her door was yanked open and she looked up into the surprised eyes of her friend, Len.

"Mary!" he exclaimed. She blinked owlishly at him. "Mary, talk to me."

"Len?" she mumbled in confusion.

"Yeah, it's me. Look, we've got to get you out of here." He began unfastening her seatbelt and she groaned as he helped her climb out of the wreck of her car. "Did you hit your head?"

"I don't know," she said vaguely. Two of her neighbors were running across the road, Terry Mills and Jason White.

"Is she OK?" Jason demanded.

"I think so," Len told him.

"We heard the crash," Terry said. "What happened?"

"I was crossing the street when she came around the corner," Len said. He pulled a book out of his pocket. "Mary and lend each other books. I was returning this one."

"Oh, you're Len," Jason said, relaxing. "Mary's friend," he said to Terry.

"I think we need to get her inside," Len said. Jason nodded and reached into her wrecked car to find her purse.

Mary leaned on Len as he helped her up her driveway and Terry followed anxiously. Jason had already unlocked the door and moved a few of Dean's toys out of the way so that Len could walk her straight to the couch. The two men stood there awkwardly, looking at each other.

"It's OK," Mary said tiredly. "Go home. Len will take care of me and I'm gonna call Gina." Looking relieved, Jason patted her arm and then shook Len's hand. "Martha and I are just across the street if you need us and Terry lives a few houses down."

Len smiled at them and saw them to the door before turning his attention back to Mary.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was visiting a friend who lives on the next street over but there's not much parking so I left my car here. I was planning to drop your book off on my way home."

"Did I hit you?"

"No," he said reassuringly. "But it would have been my own dumb fault if you had. What's going on Mary? You were driving like a woman possessed!"

The events of the night slammed back into her brain and she crumpled against him. His arms encircled her shoulders and he held her as she wept. Finally, she'd recovered enough of her composure and she straightened up.

"I think someone needs a drink," Len said. "I don't suppose you have any brandy. Isn't that good for shock?"

Mary gave a weak chuckle. "There's bourbon in the kitchen. Next to the fridge." Len nodded and got up and she put her head in her hands. What was she supposed to do now? She had a young son and no marketable skills. And a husband who had managed to deceive her completely. She felt like a failure.

* * *

Len entered the kitchen and quickly located a glass and the bottle of bourbon. He pulled out the locket he'd been wearing about his neck and pressed his thumb to it. A tiny prick and a drop of blood squeezed out of his finger and began to run through the intricate design on the locket.

"Len," he heard a sibilant whisper inside his head.

"It's time, my lord," he said respectfully. "Mary's fertility cycle peaks tonight, and she discovered her husband and Michael just as you planned."

"There were no obstacles?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Len said.

"Have you been drinking the demon blood as instructed?" Lucifer asked. "If you explode, the whole plan is falls apart."

"I followed the instructions to the letter," Len asserted. "We need to go now, she's expecting me in there any minute."

There was a silence and then he heard a sound, like a bell tolling far away. Light so bright it made his teeth ache swelled inside the kitchen and then Len could feel the presence of his master filling up the spaces inside him. He smiled and relaxed, allowing the Light-bringer to take control of his body.

* * *

Mary heard Len returning and lifted her head, accepting the glass of liquor and swallowing it down in one gulp.

"Hey, take it easy there," Len said in concern. "What happened tonight, Mary?"

"John," she said, choking. "He was late for dinner. I went over to the garage to see him… in the office with…"

"Was he with someone?" he asked gently.

Mary nodded, her hands shaking. "Blond," she said.

Len took the glass from her and placed it on the table before wrapping his hands around her fingers. "I know this feels like the end of the world right now," he said. "But, think before you do anything rash. Do you know who the woman was?"

"Woman?" Mary said in confusion.

"The blonde who was with John in the office," Len clarified.

Mary covered her face with her hands. "It wasn't a woman."

Len was silent and she wondered if he'd heard her. She opened her eyes again to see him staring at her in concern. She gave him a bitter smile.

"You wanna know the worst part?" He nodded. "After Dean was born, my friend Gina and her husband saw John hanging out with some guy. They even claimed they saw them kissing. And I didn't believe them. Not my John. I never thought he'd cheat on me, and definitely not with another man!"

"Oh, Mary," Len breathed. "I'm so, so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

She leaned her forehead against his and blew out a breath. "I don't think so. What am I supposed to do with that, as a wife? If your husband sleeps with another woman, your instinct is to compare yourself to her and ask what has she got that I haven't? But with a man? I guess I _know_ what he has that I don't. I just wish I knew if any part of our marriage was real, or if I've been a fool the entire time."

"I don't have the answers," Len said. He brushed away her tears with the back of his hand and cupped her jaw. "Personally, I don't know how he can turn his back on you. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met." She looked up into his earnest blue eyes and something tickled at the back of her mind, something important that she needed to remember. But her heart was broken and sweet, gentle dependable Len was here for her and maybe that was enough. She tilted her head and kissed him softly. He groaned and pulled away from her.

"Mary, I meant what I said," he told her. "Don't do anything you might regret."

"I won't regret it," she said fiercely and launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him deeply. His hands tightened reflexively on her hips and he opened his mouth to entwine his tongue with hers. They remained there, tangled up on the couch as they explored each other. Len was less broad than John, not that Mary really wanted to compare them right now. But it meant that it was easier to straddle him here on the sofa rather than have to think about taking him to her bed.

She struggled out of her shirt and quickly unhooked and discarded her bra. Len slid his hands up her body to cup her breasts and then laved each nipple with his tongue. She arched her back at the sensations that rippled up and down her body as he lavished attention on her. But soon she wanted more and she stood up to wriggle out of her jeans and strip Len out of his clothing. His body was not as muscular as John's but he was in good shape and there was an attractive dusting of dark hair that trailed in a wicked line from his navel to his crotch. She licked her lips and dived in, mouthing at the head of his cock until his head fell back and he groaned. She wanted to swallow him further, but apparently he had other ideas, tugging at her arms and drawing her up for another searing kiss.

She settled into his lap, his erection pressed against her in a teasing way that made her hips twitch and her breathing stutter. They moved against each other, savoring the sparks of arousal and feeling the need within her grow.

"Mary," Len said, holding her head in his hands. "You're so beautiful, Mary."

She kissed him again, not wanting to talk, just wanting to feel. Adjusting the angle of her body, she began to rock back, lining him up against her entrance. His eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, and his breathing became ragged. She eased his cock into her body, slowly letting herself accommodate to his size. She paused for a second, the familiar and the unfamiliar mingling together in a way that made her mind begin to question what she was doing. She'd only ever had sex with John before, and Len's body was different enough that she couldn't pretend that it was John inside her now.

"You're thinking too much," Len whispered against her throat and she felt a puff of cold air against her skin. For some reason, that seemed to light her libido on fire. She gasped and shuddered before beginning to move. Len let her ride him for a few moments and then he growled into her neck and somehow flipped their positions so that she was beneath him. He thrust himself inside her and she screamed as her climax hit her like a freight train, sudden, intense and over much too soon.

She expected Len to finish quickly himself and then separate from her, but instead he paused, grinned and kissed her again, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He tilted her head up and nibbled along her jaw and down her neck, pausing to suck at her neck. And then he bit down hard, and that should have hurt and it kinda did but it also sent waves of fresh arousal crashing through her and she gasped. He raised his head and kissed her again, and she could taste her blood on his tongue. That should have been gross but it wasn't. Len started moving again and Mary was convinced she was losing her mind. She was already well on the way to a second orgasm and that was just crazy.

This time as she crested, Len began pistoning into her, his breath huffing in her ear and then he cried out and she felt the pulse of his release within her. She rested her head on his shoulder, riding out the aftershocks and letting her heartrate return to normal.

This had not been very smart, she thought even as she clutched at Len's body and shivered. He lifted his head and met her gaze. And that's when it hit her.

"Your eyes," she yelped.

Len smiled lazily at her. "What about them?"

"They're blue!" She shoved at him and tried to squirm out from under his body. "Len's eyes are brown."

"Mary," Len said. "You're overwrought. My eyes have always been blue."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, no, that's impossible. I know they weren't blue before. I know it." She scrambled away from him, grabbing her shirt and covering herself.

"Mary-"

"What are you?" she screamed.

He sighed. "We can't have you freaking out like this, Mary. It's not good for the baby."

She went white. "Oh God. We didn't use protection. Oh, oh, oh." She stumbled backwards, her free hand over her mouth. Len's mouth set into a hard line. He reached out to her and she flinched away. "I need to know what you are. Human eyes don't change."

"I might as well tell you," he said, giving her an impudent smile. "My name is Lucifer. You may have heard of me."

He caught her before she hit the floor in a dead faint and touched two fingers to her forehead. He erased all memories of their conversation, and replaced it with a more banal one where Len had excused himself and she'd gone to bed. He carried her upstairs and stroked a finger down her cheek, leaving her to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Mary started awake, the room was too bright and the house too silent. She looked down at herself, and grimaced. She didn't normally sleep naked, in case she had to get up to Dean in the night. And where the Hell was John?

Memories crashed over her and she almost retreated back under the covers. John and his mystery friend in the garage office. Wrecking her car right outside her house. Len, so kind and sweet and yet lusty and skilled as a lover. He'd been embarrassed about getting carried away, and had apologized for taking advantage of her, which was so typical of him really. None of this was on him. She was a grown woman, and she had to take responsibility for her actions.

Her mouth twisted as she tried to remember if they'd used condoms or not. She and John didn't use them, so there wouldn't be any in the house but maybe Len had some? She closed her eyes as she tried to sort through the memories, but there was a strange fuzziness to them as if she'd been drunk. But she didn't remember drinking all that much. Sighing she dragged herself into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

The sight in the bathroom mirror made her jump. Her pale skin was marred by a number of bruises, some of which were probably from when she crashed the car, but some were very clearly fingermarks and on her neck was an actual bite. She leaned forward and grimaced as she realized that there was dried blood too. John was going to flip out. Her head tilted up. Let him flip out, he didn't have a leg to stand on.

After a long, hot shower that did much to improve her mood, she tied her hair back and dressed quickly before heading downstairs. John was asleep on the couch, and she noticed in horror that her clothes were still strewn about the room from her activities with Len the night before.

As she bent down to pick them up, John said. "Leave them."

She froze and then stood up. John's eyes were fixed on hers. Dark shadows marked his face and he looked older somehow.

"I see you got fed up of waiting for me last night," he said coldly.

She folded her arms across her chest. "You didn't come home. You promised me you'd be home by six. What time _did_ you roll in, by the way?"

He grunted at her. "2am, I think. It's not my fault. Several parts we ordered didn't arrive until after five and we had to get those trucks back on the road for Jerry by morning."

"I see," she said. "Why didn't Mike stay to help?"

"He did," John said defensively. "We were both there most of the night."

"I see," she said, angry that he was lying to her so brazenly and so easily. If she hadn't seen what she'd seen last night, his excuse would have sounded totally plausible. She wondered bitterly how many of his other late night excuses were lies to cover up his infidelities. John's eyes had fixed on the bite on her neck and his fists clenched.

"So what's his name?" he growled.

She wasn't going to back down or let him change the subject. "We haven't finished talking about you yet."

"I told you-"

"Save it," she snapped. "I don't want to hear any more of your lies. How could you do this to me, John? To us? Why was what we had not enough for you?"

"I don't know what you mean," John said, sitting upright. But he wasn't meeting her eyes and she knew she had him.

"I saw you," she hissed and he recoiled, his face a mask of horror. "I saw you, bent over the desk and getting fucked like a girl." He just stared at her, completely unable to speak. Her hands started shaking. "Who is he, John? Is he the same guy Jerry and Gina saw you with when Dean was a baby?"

He groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I didn't want you to know."

"Of course you didn't want me to know," she shrieked. "What woman wants to know she's so inadequate as a wife that she drove her husband into the arms of a man?"

"It's not like that," John said heavily. "I'm not gay."

"You could have fooled me," Mary said witheringly.

"Michael is… I can't explain it. It's just something that I had to do. But it's done, I swear. I'll tell him we can't do it again."

"And that's it?" she said, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm just supposed to forget about it, and we go on as if nothing happened."

He raised his head, his eyes flashing. "Yes. Just like I'm ignoring the obvious signs that you had company last night as well."

"That's hardly the same," she said gamely. "Len was helping me after I crashed my car."

The anger vanished from John's face and he stood up. "You crashed the car? Where?"

"The tree on the corner of Ted's driveway. I'm surprised you didn't see it when you got home last night." Her voice had taken on a tired, monotone quality. How had she and John gotten to this point?

"I was pretty drunk," John admitted. "Were you hurt?"

"Not badly," she said. "I've got a few bruises, nothing serious."

He strode over to her and pulled her into his arms. "Mary," he said, burying his nose in her hair. "I could have lost you."

She let him hold her, his body warm and familiar against hers. "I'm OK," she whispered.

"How do we fix this?" John mumbled. "I don't know how we got so off track but I love you, Mary. I don't want anyone else. So, tell me how we fix this and I'll do it. Anything, I swear."

"We start over," she said simply. "No more secrets. No more lies. The past is past and we don't rehash it. Clean slate. But you only get one second chance, OK?"

"OK," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "OK."

She kissed him, full on the mouth and he rested his forehead against hers. "Go call Gina and get Dean. I'm taking the day off and we're gonna spend the day together, like a family."

She smiled at him, her heart soaring. Maybe they could work this out after all. "It's going to take time for me to trust you again," she warned.

He shrugged. "I understand that. Let's just take it one day at a time."

* * *

Gina rested her head against the bathroom door. It couldn't be good news, Mary had been in there for ages.

"Mary?" she called out.

"Come on in," her friend said softly.

Gina opened the door to see Mary perched on the side of the tub, the plastic wand in her hand. Gina peeked at it and gasped in delight.

"Mary!" she said happily. But Mary didn't look happy. She looked devastated. "Mary, what's wrong?"

"It's impossible," Mary said miserably. "I can't be pregnant."

"Why not?" Gina said. "Are you on the pill? It's not one hundred percent you know."

"No," Mary said. "But there is one essential element to getting pregnant. You have to have sex."

Gina gaped at her. "You and John haven't been uh…"

"No." Mary raked a hand through her hair. "It's too soon. I still have the images in my mind of John and that… man."

"Oh, honey," Gina said sympathetically, wrapping her arms around Mary. "But if you and John haven't been sleeping together, then this is probably a false alarm. That can happen, I've heard. These tests aren't perfect."

Mary started to cry and Gina floundered, uncertain what was the best course of action. Mary had seemed upset about being pregnant, but now Gina had offered the possibility of a false positive, she seemed upset by that too. She didn't know what to do, she only wanted to help her friend.

"I didn't quite tell you everything about the night I caught John at the garage," Mary muttered. Gina had suspected as much but hadn't wanted to pry, figuring Mary would tell her when she was ready. "I slept with Len."

"Len, from the grocery store? Your crosswords and mystery novels pal?"

"Yeah. I ran into him, almost literally, on my way back from John's work. I was so upset I almost knocked him over. You remember I crashed into Ted's silver birch?" Gina nodded. Ted had been a complete asshole about it, but that was Ted. "He helped me into the house and I was upset and the next thing we were kissing-" She broke off and shook her head.

"So, you think Len's the father," Gina finished grimly.

"He has to be," Mary said in a hollow voice. "Even before that night, John and I had hardly been close."

Gina's head started to hurt. She took a deep breath. "Did you want to get a termination? We can go to Kansas City. Nobody would ever have to know."

"I don't know," Mary said. "It doesn't seem very fair on the baby. It's not his fault his parents are fucked up."

"Sure it's a he, are you?" Gina asked.

Mary nodded. "Yes. I knew with Dean too. I can't explain it."

"Wait, you only just found out you were pregnant five minutes ago." Gina objected.

"I already knew," Mary said heavily. "The test was just confirmation. Or rather, I was hoping against hope that I was wrong."

"What are you going to tell John?" Gina asked.

"The truth. We almost tore our marriage apart with lies. I won't run that risk again." Mary's chin came up and Gina felt a wave of relief. "This doesn't have to be a bad thing. So what if John's not the father. A friend of my dad's used to say, family don't end with blood."

Gina smiled and bumped her shoulder against Mary's. "That's the spirit. Come on, I think we've left poor Jerry at the mercy of Dean and Tommy long enough. And Maddy will be waking up soon."

Mary stepped over to the sink and splashed cold water on her face to try and calm the redness and puffiness from crying. She met Gina's eyes in the mirror. "I'm ready."

* * *

Michael glared at Benedict as he grinned knowingly at him. "I knew you'd be back sooner rather than later."

"Kindly keep your opinions to yourself," he snarled.

"Oooh, touchy!" Benedict sang, dancing out of reach when Michael attempted to backhand him.

"Let's just get moving."

The last time he'd visited Hell, it's denizens had treated him with a mixture of fear, disdain and disgust. Now they seemed more cowed and Michael wondered what had changed. He shook his head, he didn't care what demons thought of him. When he finally got Lucifer out of that damned Cage, they'd raze this ghastly place to the ground.

Lucifer was already waiting for him, eager and grinning as he leaned against the bars. "Michael," he said, his voice throbbing with desire.

"Lucifer," Michael replied, pressing forward and kissing him deeply. "It's done."

"I know," Lucifer said. "I felt my seed quicken within her belly. Are you sure the alarms didn't sound?"

"I'm certain," Michael said confidently. "We're safe."

"Dad's gonna be pissed when he finds out what we've done," Lucifer observed.

"What's he going to do?" Michael shrugged. "Make _Gabriel_ the ruler of Heaven?"

Lucifer laughed, a deep rolling sound that boomed in Michael's chest. "I can't decide who would hate that more. He's still alive then?"

"Somewhere," Michael said, his lip curling with contempt. "He's been slumming with the pagans. He thinks I don't know."

"I miss him," Lucifer said. "But not as much as I miss you."

"Not long now," Michael said. "We just need to be patient." Lucifer whined and Michael laughed. "OK, OK." He tugged Lucifer forwards for another ferocious kiss and then dropped to his knees. Lucifer raised one eyebrow at him before hastily dismissing his pants and presenting his half-erect cock to his brother. Michael gobbled him down eagerly and he groaned, the sweet, hot feeling of Michael's mouth making him have to resist the urge to grab Michael's hair and thrust into his throat. Michael looked up at him and his eyes glowed. Taking that as permission, Lucifer tangled his hands in Michael's golden curls and plunged in deep. Michael didn't miss a beat, applying a steady suction that seemed to reach all the way to his toes.

It was all over too soon, spilling into Michael's greedy mouth and then resting his head against the bars, heedless of the pain. Michael had stood again, his eyes dark with lust and his mouth red and swollen. Lucifer kissed him, the salty taste of himself still on Michael's lips.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked softly. "I can return the favor."

"You know what I want," Michael said roughly. Lucifer did. Michael tended to be rather single-minded. He turned around, pressing his body against the Cage and listening to his Grace sizzle and singe.

Michael didn't even give him much time to prepare, he rammed his cock into Lucifer's body with a growl and Lucifer screamed, a heady mix of pain and pleasure that made him dizzy with joy. Michael was brutal and relentless, it was like being fucked by a freight train. Lucifer loved it.

"When we get you out of here, you're going to scream like that every night," Michael promised. "I'm going to fuck you inside out."

Tears sprang to Lucifer's eyes. "I'll be your slave," he promised, gasping.

Michael purred in his ear. "I've been fucking John Winchester for months, but as good as it was, I was wishing it was you the whole time."

"I don't mind if you fuck other people," Lucifer said, giving out a whine when Michael paused.

"Do you mind if _you_ fuck other people?" Michael said breathlessly. "I want to watch you,"

Lucifer groaned. "Anything you want, but please, you have to fuck me now."

* * *

Azazel stalked through Hell, his fury barely contained. All his plans, all his scheming was unraveling before his eyes and there seemed to be very little he could do about it. After everything he'd done for his lover and master, Lucifer was going to toss him aside and take up with the fucking archangel Michael again? Not without a fight he wasn't. Benedict trailed after him, mocking and insincere.

"Poor you," he faux-commiserated. "You've given everything to Lord Lucifer, starting with your immortal soul and ending with your dignity. Ah, the inhumanity!"

"Shut the fuck up," Azazel growled. "I'll think of something. Maybe I can muddy the waters a little until Lucifer sees Michael for who he really is."

"And the special children?" Benedict asked.

"What do you know about that?" Azazel snarled.

"Nothing," Benedict squeaked. "Just that you've got cohorts of children chosen for their latent psychic abilities and you've been feeding them demon blood so that eventually one will rise up and wrest the throne of Hell from Lucifer and give control of the Hadean Armies to you."

Azazel snatched one of Benedict's horns and yanked him upwards, suspending him three or four feet above the floor. Benedict yowled in pain. "How in all the circles of misery did you find all of that out?"

"Ow, ow, ow. Put me down Azazel. Or I'll run straight to Lord Lucifer with the whole sordid tale."

"You're a little punk," Azazel said dismissively. "You wouldn't dare."

"Depends if I've got anything left to lose," Benedict wailed. "Lemme go!" Azazel dropped him and the young demon collapsed into a heap on the ground. "Fuck you, Azazel."

Azazel grinned and caught the little demon's tail. "Oh that can be arranged." He tugged at it until Benedict's ass was displayed at just the right angle and then knelt down behind him. He stroked himself a few times and then shoved his cock into Benedict's ass in one swift movement. Benedict screeched, his hands clawing at the rocky ground and his hips flexing.

"You like that, don't you," Azazel growled in his ear.

"You know I do," Benedict snarled.

Azazel fucked him with long, hard strokes that seemed to bury his cock so deep in the little demon, Azazel wouldn't have been surprised to see the tip coming out of his mouth. But at least he had shut up, aside from a few appreciative moans and gasps that Azazel considered his due if he was going to honor such a low ranked demon in this way, fucking him in front of the entire legion.

He groaned through his release, making Benedict squeal once more and then stood up. Benedict lay on the floor, his body still undulating from pleasure and need.

"Get up," Azazel said. "We've got work to do."

* * *

 _1 Year Later_

The nursery was dark and Azazel's eyes lit up at the sight of his prey, the unblinking eyes of six month old Samuel Winchester. The Boy King. Lucifer's True Vessel. He grinned. "Change of plan, kid,"

Sam looked up at him with eyes that seemed entirely too knowing, too aware for a child so young. Many of the special children were precocious, that was sort of the point to an extent. But never anything like this. Azazel felt slightly unnerved for a second. And then he dismissed it as woolgathering and focused on his task. He slit open a vein with one claw and held his hand above young Sammy's mouth, watching with delight as the blood dripped onto his lips and the baby licked eagerly at it. He'd only given a few drops to the other special children but his new plan needed Sam to have a much larger dose right from the beginning. He lowered his wrist and Sam instinctively grabbed at it and latched his mouth onto the open wound. The kid has some impressive suction, Azazel realized. Sam was drawing blood out of his arm as fast as his veins could supply it. Ah, the power this child would have when he grew into his birthright!

"John?" a female voice said sleepily behind him. Ah, Mary. Sweet, luscious Mary. He turned around, his eyes flashing yellow and she gasped.

"You!"

"Didn't I warn you," Azazel said. But he wasn't mad, not really. He'd not claimed Mary as he had the right to do so, letting her off with a simple, almost chaste kiss. But she'd broken the rule, the only rule he'd insisted on. She'd disturbed him while he was working. So now she was his.

He spun around and grabbed her, taking his time to appreciate her body through the thin cotton of her nightgown.

"Mmm, Mary, we're gonna have a little fun. Think Sammy's ready for a little lesson in biology?"

"Get your filthy hands off me," she barked.

"Nuhuh, Mary, we had a deal. You let me do my thing, and I leave you alone. Mostly. Now, though, now I'm gonna taste what I denied myself all those years ago. And I was in your father's body too, can you imagine how sweet that would have been as I fucked you, your Daddy's soul screaming in agony?"

"You son of a bitch," she snarled, struggling against his hold.

"Language," he admonished. "Really, women these days. He crushed his mouth to hers and she bit down hard on his tongue, almost cutting all the way through it. He healed it instantly and smacked her, hard. "Bitch!"

He'd hit her too hard and knocked her unconscious. Dammit, this night was not going at all to plan. He let her drop to the floor and returned his attention to Sam, offering up his wrist once more. Sam greedily suckled at it for a few more minutes until Azazel was satisfied and then started to pull his arm away. Sam held on grimly, sucking even harder and Azazel laughed. This kid was gonna be awesome. It took a bit of struggling to get free and he staggered, blinking in surprise. Oops. He'd let the kid take a bit too much. He peered down at him, the kid looking up at him with those innocent eyes. Well, if little Sammy was going to explode he'd have done it by now. He grinned at him. Hot damn.

Mary was out cold and he glared at her. Doing anything to her while she was unable to scream or fight or resist in any way would be boring. He made an idle gesture, sending her body upwards and pinning her to the ceiling. Sammy stared up at her, open-mouthed and he had a wicked idea. Slicing open her belly at the exact point her body hung over Sam's crib he watched as her blood dripped down and Sam eagerly swallowed it, just as he had Azazel's blood. Drinking human blood wouldn't affect Sam the way demon blood did, but it might just be the foundation of one hell of a kink. Azazel rubbed his hands together, maybe tonight hadn't been such a clusterfuck after all.

He set the fire runes and the trigger spells around the nursery, including a few illusions spells to add a little confusion and then departed. He'd be long gone before John Winchester burst into the nursery to see his beloved wife dying on the ceiling and then the inferno would ignite. Sam would survive, even if the house burned to the ground. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

John watched silently as the house burned. He hugged Sam close to his body and Dean was snuggled up beside him, his eyes wide and dark smudges on his face.

"Mommy?" he said.

"I'm sorry, Dean," John said, his voice croaked from emotion and smoke inhalation. "You're too young to understand this but, Mommy's gone."

"Gone where?" Dean demanded.

"To Heaven, kiddo," John said. Tears threatened but now was not the time. He needed to get his kids to safety and to figure out what the Hell he was going to do next. He helped Dean off the hood of the car and bundled the boys into the backseat. Then he climbed into the driver's seat and drove away.

* * *

Mike and Kate were waiting on the driveway when he pulled in. Kate's face was wet and Mike was pale. Kate helped John carry the two sleeping children out of the car and into the house.

"I've made up the spare room," she said. "There's a full size bed in there, and Lena next door loaned me her son's old cot for Sammy."

"Thanks, Kate," John said gruffly. She quirked an awkward smile at him and led him upstairs.

"There's a pocket door to the bathroom here," she said. "Just remember to lock the other door to the hallway if you're in there." She looked around the room, as if searching for something else to say.

"This is great," John said. He looked down at his smoky, scorched clothes. "I don't suppose I could borrow something to wear?"

"Oh, of course. Mike's bigger than you are so they'll be a bit loose but maybe I can find something from his thinner days," she said, dashing out of the room.

John looked down at Sammy, who was asleep in the crib with his thumb in his mouth. There was a few drops of blood on his face he realized, presumably Mary's. His vision tilted dizzily and he had to take a few deep breaths.

Kate had returned with some sweatpants and a t-shirt for him and some children's pajamas. "Lena sent some clothes for Dean, her boy's only a little older. Do you mind if we put Sam in one of Bethany's rompers? It's pink I'm afraid." She held it up apologetically. John shook his head and accepted the clothes with a grateful look.

"There are diapers under the sink. Come downstairs and get a drink once you've got them settled," she said. He nodded and she left.

Dean was lying on the bed, watching him silently. It made John's stomach hurt, Dean was never this quiet.

"Come on," he said, opening the bathroom door. "Let's get cleaned up."

Sam was sleepy and let John wipe a washcloth over him without complaint. He carefully removed the blood from his face and the smoke from his hair and skin. He tossed the blue romper straight in the trash, it was stained with blood and scorched in several places and he frowned. But Sam didn't seem to be burned. He changed his diaper quickly and then went back in the bedroom to lay him in the crib.

When he got back to the bathroom, Dean was idly poking at the faucet, turning it on and off. "OK, buddy. Let's get you out of those nasty clothes."

Dean pulled his pajama top over his head and shucked the bottoms, staring at them like they were something alien. John wet a fresh washcloth with warm water and sponged him down. Dean didn't look up at him once. He didn't even struggle like he normally did.

"Hey, Dean," John said, tilting his son's chin up. "It's gonna be OK, son. I promise."

"I want my mommy," Dean whined.

"I know," John said. "Me too." He led Dean back into the bedroom and lifted him onto the bed, then climbed in next to him and pulled Dean in close, tucking him under his arm.

* * *

What the Hell had happened tonight? His memories seemed strangely distorted and some of the things he'd seen weren't possible, were they? Was he so overwrought he'd started imagining things? But he hadn't imagined Mary, pinned to the ceiling by some unknown force and struggling to breathe, her blood dripping down. He hadn't imagined the eruption of flame that had quickly engulfed her and subsequently the house. He wondered if he was losing his mind.

Dean's breathing had evened out and John carefully slid out from under him. He padded out of the room, leaving the door ajar so he would hear if either of his sons woke up. Downstairs, Mike and Kate were sat around the kitchen table. Mike passed the scotch to John and Kate sipped at a mug of hot chocolate.

John sloshed liquor into a glass and drained it. "What the Hell am I going to do, Mike?"

"John, it's 4 in the morning. You've just been through a terrible experience. You don't need to worry about the future. It'll wait," Mike said.

"I have to worry about it," John said. "Something happened in that house tonight."

Mike and Kate exchanged glances. "Did you and Mary have another fight? I thought you guys were doing better."

"What? No! No, things have been good. It's not been easy for her, Sammy was a much rougher pregnancy than Dean for her and he's still not sleeping through the night. But we've been doing OK." He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Someone else was in the house."

Kate gasped. "Like the prowler?"

John frowned at her. "What prowler?

Kate flushed, and she looked at Mike again. "Didn't Mary tell you? She was being stalked."

"This is the first I've heard of it," John said angrily.

Mike made a quelling gesture. "Maybe she didn't want to worry you. To be honest, it didn't seem like much at the time."

"Just after you guys told us you were having another baby, Gina and I went out for lunch with Mary. There was this guy hanging around the restaurant and later we saw he'd followed us out into the parking lot. He gave us the creeps," Kate told him. "He kept showing up. Not often, just now and again. Short guy, light brown hair, always wore sunglasses even when it was dark."

John thumped a hand on the table and she jumped. "And you had no idea who he was?"

"None," Kate denied. "I told Mary to call the police but she said there wasn't much they could do. As weird as it was, he hadn't actually committed a crime."

"And what could you have done?" Mike chimed in. "It's probably unrelated."

"But there was an intruder in my house!" John said emphatically.

"OK," Mike said. "Can you describe him? Maybe we should write it down now, while it's fresh."

Kate leaned over to open a drawer on the sideboard and pulled out a notebook and a pencil. She pushed them at John. "Mike's right. Whatever you can remember."

"Since when did you join the local PD?" John said nastily.

"You forget," she said loftily. "I was a 911 dispatcher before Bethany was born. I know quite a bit about procedure."

John took a deep breath. Being rude to his friends was not helpful. Besides, Kate was right. He jotted down what he could remember. The man had been shorter than him, but it had been dark and he'd only seen him for a split second. Yellow eyes, that he remembered. It had struck him as strange at the time despite the chaos. Now he was doubting his memory, people didn't have yellow eyes like a cat. And how could he see what color the guys eyes were anyway? He stared down at what he'd written. It wasn't much to go on.

"I think I need to get some sleep," he said.

Kate patted his arm. "That's a good idea. Things will seem better in the morning."

He glared at her. "My beloved wife and mother of my two children just died a horrifying death. How can things ever seem better again?"

She looked away and he stood up, walking out of the kitchen and heading for the stairs. He heard Mike murmuring to Kate behind him but he didn't care. His life was over.


End file.
